Zeb of the Moor

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Something I wish I had done when it was too late !

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Zeb of the Moor

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When looking at the index for this website it has irked me for ages that there in no entry for the letter 'Z' which is not surprising as there are very few topics beginning with that letter. Today whilst sitting at my desk I rolled the chair backwards to reach for a book when a sudden deafening yelp frightened me witless, the chair had rolled over the dog's tail. It then dawned on me that Zeb the dog is as much a part of my Dartmoor life as anything and as his name begins with the letter 'Z' he could fill the missing gap, so here is his biography.

Over the years I have shared my life with a Collie called 'Laddie', a huge greyhound cross Alsatian named 'Spike' (his ears were constantly pricked up) and two Labradors known as 'Fred' and 'Zeb'. Then there were a few dogless years for various reasons which looking back definately had something missing. Now, I have never made a conscious effort to get a dog, all the ones I have owned have arrived unexpectedly and I am now a great believer that you don't find a dog it finds you. Accordingly, I was driving home one day when Angela phoned to say that a friend of hers had acquired a dog who was not fitting in with the other two dogs in the household and would we like it. Apparently the dog was a 'gorgeous', year old collier cross with a good nature that had previously lived a 'dog's life' of misery and woe. From what I remember that particular day had not been the best of days and therefore I was none to receptive to the idea. For me the critical criteria for a dog is that it has to stand taller than my knee or in other words fall between the medium to large dog size. When asked how big this potential lodger was I recieved a rather vague answer which could have been taken in many ways. Having got home we ate dinner accompanied by all the general chit-chat and when the whisky bottle had been out a while I was informed that the dog would be paying a visit in order for me to 'vet it. Saturday morning arrived and at about ten o'clock the doorbell rang, Angela opened the dog and a scraggy looking mongrel burst into the hall and immediately pee'd up against the coffee table. In that instant I immediately came to two conclusions, a) it was not taller than my knee and b) there was no way on earth that animal was going to stay in this house.

That was three years ago and at this very moment he is curled up beside my desk and there is no way I would ever want to be parted from Zeb (2). I love the old fashion names hence his name Zebediah or Zeb for short, many people think it's the truncated version of Zebedee but it's not. With hindsight it should have been Zebedee because, when excited, he can literally spring vertically into the air like a Harrier jump-jet, but no he is Zebediah.

So what's he like? Well, first and foremost he just adores people and can never get close enough to them much to the consternation of some visitors. He is excellent with children and on many occasions he will spend the day in my wife's classroom where he is adored by all the school children. Zeb very rarely barks, people come to the door and he silently waits with his tail frantically wagging for it to be opened. Unfortunately he has a very low pain threshold and will yelp at the slightest twinge or prick, often for no reason whatsoever apart from he thinks it might hurt. The other characteristic of Zebediah is that sadly he is not the brightest spark in the firework, in fact he is downright thick, we often laugh at his single brain cell. Many is the time when you can see the pained expression on his face when he is trying to work something out, multi-tasking - forget it, one thing at a time. For a dog that cost nothing he has more than made up for the fact in vets bills ever since, Zeb is always in some scrape or other. Eighteen months ago he leapt a stile and left his leg behind which resulted in a torn cruciate ligament, three month recuperation and a £600 vets bill. Eight months ago he came into the kitchen with huge blisters all around his muzzle that resulted in a £120 vets bill and we never did find out what caused the problem. Last week whilst out for a walk he attacked a Staffordshire Bull Terrier and had a hole bit clean through his ear, that hopefully is healing itself for free. On every occasion I have left the vet's surgery I have vowed to get him insured but as with many things it's a 'tuit', I never seem to get around 'to it'. One of his 'interesting' rituals is that when at home you clip he lead on he always darts to his food bowl and gobbles down several mouthfuls of food, it's as if he thinks he won't be coming back and has the need to stock-up with a last meal. Another little habit, and one that I am totally ashamed of, is where once the dinner table has been cleared he has to jump up on one of our laps and eat a token bowl of biscuits as if to be part of the human pack. It is safe to assume that more people in the village know Zeb than us, probably because of his inquisitive, bordering on nosey nature. Let me explain further, around the garden is a six foot panel fence and inside is a low wall and he can often be seen standing with his back legs on the wall and his front paws on the fence peering down on the pavement below - see 'What's occurring opposite'. Anyone walking along the path is greeted by Zeb's face looming down just above head height which greatly amuses the children as they make their way to school. He will stand their for ages just looking up and down the road watching the village life go by, it's probably a good thing he can't talk or else there would be a bit more gossip around. Oh yes, another habit is chewing, luckily Zeb has virtually stopped his destructive campaign but every now and again he will lapse. The first week we had him he skilfully took about 30 CDs from the shelf and expertly managed to shred the cases and with surgical precision insert one tooth hole in each CD. His list of wrecked items included a brand new and unwatched Time Team DVD the postman delivered, a good three pairs of Angela's boots and shoes, numerous items of clothing and worst of all my Silva sighting compass. However there was one victim that in the end persuaded him against his campaign of destruction, and that was a small teddy bear that one of Angela's pupils bought her at the end of term. For ages it sat on the bookcase until the day Zeb managed to get at it, at first he chomped off its ear but then for some reason stopped. Ever since that day he hardly goes anywhere without that teddy bear in his mouth, occasionally he takes it outside and flings it around the garden and then temporarily forgets where he put it but most of the time its being carted around by the one remaining ear or sat beside him when he's curled up.

But more than anything Zeb loves to run, he has the ability to outrun most dogs, I think even 'Spike' would have had trouble keeping up and that was a dog bred for coursing. Now whilst it is lovely to see him haring around a field or the moor it is not so pleasing when you see his bushy tail disappear over the far horizon. I think his lack of brain cells results in the fact that he enjoys himself so much he forgets to stop. When he used to be allowed off the lead many is the time that I have seen him zooming across the moor and gradually fade into the distance. Now, much to his disgust he is not allowed off the lead no matter how far into the moor we are. Well that's not completely true, if we are 150% certain that there are no distractions nearby such a other walkers, other walker's dogs, sheep, dead animal carcasses, fast flowing water, stagnant water, birds, or the like then he is let off. This is the signal to dart, leap, and roll around the vicinity until we spot the tell-tale prick of his ears at which time he's hastily secured back on the lead. But despite this he is never happier that when he's rolling around a Dartmoor bog, swimming up a leat or eating the copious supplies of sheep droppings. As soon as Zeb leaps from the car, which happily is no longer full of vomit, he sniffs the fresh moorland air and immediately knows he is in for a good days' exploring.

So if you are ever out on the moor and spot a brown collie-like dog which a huge white, fluffy tail that looks like a feather duster come and say hello to Zeb, I know he will be pleased to see you especially if you have some doggy treats on your person.

The latest claim for Zeb is that his is the inspiration for a national sales campaign. I work for a veterinary pharmaceutical company and we are having a push in 2008 to get pet owners to responsibly bath their animals. Now, during a recent visit our product manager discovered much to her horror that Zeb was being bathed in Pantene shampoo (blame the wife). Yes, so what? I hear you ask. Well the natural ph of a dogs skin can vary between breeds but on average it should be around about 7.5 and the more alkaline the higher the proliferation of bacteria. Pantene shampoo comes with a ph of around 9.4 which raises the dogs ph considerably thus not only increasing the proliferation of bacteria but also drying the skin considerably. So, a picture of Zeb in the bath was sent over to the ad agency and he has been transformed into a cartoon character