Picture yourself a young Cajun boy. Seven years old, the age of reason, or so your MawMaw says. It’s a cool October night. Sitting on the porch, feet dangling, the acrid-sweet waves of sugarcane smoke tickle your throat. The stars are out, the frogs sing, a yellow moon rises. A sudden terrifying sound pierces the air. It starts out as a low growl, but ends in a shriek. Your breath catches in your chest, frissons sneak up your spine. The Rougarou! Behind your eyes squeezed shut, you imagine wolf fangs dripping with blood, claws to rip you in half.

Is he coming for you? Did you misbehave? Spend your church money on candy? You don’t wait to find out. You make for the safety of MawMaw’s kitchen, fast as your feet will take you. The screen door whacks shut, almost drowning out the blood-curdling wail still ringing in your ears.

The rougarou, or more formally in French, loup-garou: a creature with a man’s body and a wolf’s or dog’s head, a werewolf. A shadowy intruder into many a young child’s dreams, or even grown-up’s nightmares. Stories of the Rougarou have been present in our culture for centuries.

Barry Jean Ancelet, Professor Emeritus of Francophone Studies at UL, says cautionary tales of shapeshifters are found in all parts of the world, dating back as long as oral tradition. “We have traditional shapeshifter tales from Africa and from Europe,” he says. “The most common is the wolfman, or werewolf creature. Each culture gives the story its own spin. Here, we have blended the traditions of our ancestors, and tell of the rougarou. There are other shapeshifters in Cajun tales; people might turn into a chien-garou, or even a lapin-garou.”

How did we get from the French loup-garou to the Cajun rougarou? It all hinges on the sounds we hear. “The consonants L and R are what we call liquid, meaning their sounds are so similar that one is easily mistaken for the other,” says Ancelet. “Through retelling of the story, loup-garou became rougarou, and the name was adopted.”

Tales of the rougarou are usually told to keep children in line, but there were also stories meant to steer adults back to the straight and narrow. In our area, steeped in Catholic tradition, it is said that one way to become a rougarou is to fail to keep Lent seven years in a row. Of course, if a Catholic breaks Lent just that one Friday night, forgets to abstain from meat, or comes home a little too late in the dark, he or she could become victim to a vicious rougarou attack just the same.

Another way to become a rougarou is by a witch’s curse. To break the curse, someone must cut the victim and draw blood. The curse is then transferred to that person, and they become a blood-thirsty wolf creature, searching the night for a bloody feast.

How can you protect yourself from a rougarou attack? Besides the obvious strict good behavior and devout Lenten practice, there is another way. Simply place 13 items of value (pennies or shiny pebbles will do) on your doorstep or windowsill to protect your homestead from invasion. While the rougarou is plenty scary and blood thirsty, the creature seems to have a problem with math. Legend has it he can only count up to 12, so he will become confused and count and recount your pennies until dawn, when he must slink back into the swamp.

The chilling influence of the rougarou is carried into today’s cultural scene. There have been TV episodes of “NCIS: New Orleans” and “Supernatural” featuring the rougarou; the Discovery Channel has even tried to elevate the Acadiana legend to Big Foot status with no success. Apparently, confirmed sightings or even fuzzy photos are in short supply in the area. There’s a baseball team, the Baton Rouge Rougarou, and a jazz rock band. Songs and novels have been written, and eminent Cajun artist George Rodrigue’s Blue Dog series started as a painting illustrating a loup-garou for “Bayou”, a book of forty Louisiana short stories by Chris Segura. A local radio station has a trivia contest, “Beat the Rougarou.” And, of course, there is the Houma Rougarou Festival.

So if you’re coming home a little too late one night, maybe a Lenten Friday, having chowed down on a Morvant burger just because, you better watch out. Look behind you, and get your 13 pennies ready. The Rougarou might get you!

More Cajun Beasties to Beware

Although the Rougarou is a formidable freak and one to surely avoid, he’s not the only monster said to be lurking in the bayous. There are a few other Cajun creatures of legend to keep you up at night:

~ The Tataille: The word tataille (withalowercase“t”)can be translated to “a threatening beast or monster,” but The Tataille is another thing altogether. Some lore has it that he is a giant cockroach who appears after dark and cuts off the toes of misbehaving children. Good way to scare a kid off of pedicures forever!

~ Feu Follet: Also known as Cajun Fairies or swamp fire, these creatures appear as balls of fire on the edge of the water. They’re said to enchant unsuspecting Cajuns and lead them into the swamp, where they get hopelessly lost forever. Known to work just like GPS.

~ Madame Grand Doigt: This scary figure is a woman with long, bony fingers who drifts around in the attics of Cajun families. Late at night, her fingers slink down and grab children who misbehave. Not much is said about what happens to them after she grabs them – probably for the best.