Squonk: Cryptid Crybaby With a Damp Disappearing Act

According to written accounts from the early 20th century, the squonk is a small, pig-like animal with an ugly appearance, featuring ill-fitting, warty skin.

It’s said to have a very retiring disposition, generally traveling alone through dark hemlock trees and weeping softly to itself. Its mournful cries leave behind a tear-stained trail, a sorrowful breadcrumb path through the forest.

This tearful creature’s signature move? When frightened or cornered, the squonk dissolves completely into a puddle of its own tears. Some stories even mention salt water bubbles forming where it once stood, as if the animal's sorrow becomes its escape mechanism.

That alone puts it in a whole different league from other creatures of the lumberwoods, like Paul Bunyan’s great blue ox.

The squonk’s hemlock home lies mostly in Pennsylvania, especially around the Pocono Mountains and Mont Alto. These cold, forested areas, with their freezing temperatures and thick tree cover, provide the solitude the squonk craves.

The animal is generally nocturnal, with alleged sightings occurring during moonlit nights as it cries its way through the underbrush.

Hunters from the early American logging industry claimed to hear its cries echoing among the trees. Attempts to catch one usually ended in failure, thanks to the creature’s watery exit strategy.

While fossil bones dredged from lake bottoms might offer evidence of other cryptids, there's no such luck for the squonk; it leaves no trace, only the squonk's tears (allegedly).

Unlike the fierce reputation of many fearsome creatures, the squonk is more of a tragic figure. It shares the mythic stage with other lumberwoods legends and stands out due to its overwhelmingly emotional nature. While some cryptids terrify, the squonk tugs at heartstrings.

In terms of anatomy, the squonk's webbed feet, misfitting skin and tendency to shed slowly due to low self-esteem make it a unique addition to the monster roster. Some reports suggest it avoids reflected light entirely — no surprise for a creature with such body image issues.

The high plains and hemlock forest are full of weird tales, but none echo quite like the sorrowful squonk’s. Stories often emphasize its long history of being misunderstood, even among fellow cryptids.

Where other creatures might glow with illuminated bodies or leave behind fossil bones, the squonk just vanishes in a puddle.

Despite its niche roots, the squonk has made notable appearances in pop culture. Genesis wrote a song titled "Squonk," turning its melancholic story into art. It’s also popped up in podcasts, books and videos exploring lesser-known American legends. One online series even called it a "major dude" of cryptid culture.

The squonk’s story was first documented in early lumberjack folklore collections (e.g., Cox 1910), and even a Paul Bunyan book in 1937 included the squonk alongside Babe the Blue Ox. Modern folklorists like Hal Johnson have since reprinted these tales, keeping the squonk alive in legend.​

The squonk’s legacy continues to inspire everything from art prints to plush toys — odd, perhaps, for a creature that spends most of its time weeping.

And let’s not forget: In a world of flashy monsters and dramatic chases, the squonk is a gentle reminder that not all cryptids want to fight. Some just want to cry in peace.

We created this article in conjunction with AI technology, then made sure it was fact-checked and edited by a HowStuffWorks editor.