Born in the Panama Canal Zone 79 years ago, Mr. Zidbeck came to California in 1944 with his mother and three siblings. He enlisted in the US Army after graduating from high school. Honorably discharged in 1952, he attended college under the G.I. Bill. After graduating from UCLA in 1958, he worked as a probation officer in LA County. Mr. Zidbeck, married for 55 years, has lived in San Luis Obispo County since retiring in 1985.
In addition to penning observations and reflections since living in San Luis Obispo County, George has authored six volumes of a family saga that addresses the negative influence of alcohol on a family from the perspective of the mother (two volumes); the father (three volumes); and the first born son. Anyone interested in contacting the author, may write George Zidbeck.
Rochester, George's Good Buddy
The Doe That Hated Dogs
by George Zidbeck
Throughout the 1980s, it'd be a rare week when native ground dwellers absented themselves from our San Luis Obispo County acreage. One morning, I spotted thirty-three deer. Additionally, one day I counted over sixty wild turkeys walking along our roadway. And for many years great flyways of wild pigeons plucked acorns from the oaks around our home. Such abundance no longer occurs.
But, more than gross numbers, the behavior of this or that individual sticks out. For example, even though many years have elapsed, I easily recall one deer's assertiveness when approached by any canine.
Let me begin by explaining that the family dog, Rochester by name, came with us to San Luis Obispo County from Whittier. A squat and stocky mixed terrier, he loved the property and soon enough learned not to chase most wildlife in my presence. I walked the fence line daily with my pet and whenever he had the temptation to chase a deer or turkey, I commanded, "no." Such an order did not include lizards. Following Rochester's death, the fearless doe made her debut upon the land. Thus, she had no opportunity to spar with Rochester.
However, visiting canines who accompanied their owners quickly learned to back off when facing THAT militant doe, who assured them that her slashing front hooves meant business. After new neighbors moved in with their two dogs, a beagle and a rottweiler, I witnessed their teaming up when first leaving their fenced territory to explore surrounding turf.
Standing by my garden site, I saw them heading downhill toward the northwestern corner of my parcel—close to the fence line of my lower neighbor. In that zone, a doe browsed. At first I didn't recognize the deer as the one who didn't back down. The two dogs spotted her and assumed her fair game. Crossing my fence line, both sprinted toward her, expecting her to flee. When she did not turn and run, the canines abruptly halted to better size up their target. When she slowly approached them, they backed off. When she charged, the dogs turned tail.
Easier to run on the level, both dogs ran southward toward my home rather than uphill to their base station. No doubt the beagle saw the rottweiler leaving him behind. He soon turned right—perhaps thinking that the deer might track his partner on the straightaway. Not so. The deer instantly appraised the situation, seeing that the larger dog had the lead, and thus turned to follow the slower moving target upslope.
At that point, my standing but thirty yards distant, I saw the doe quickly gaining on the short-legged, long-eared canine. Within three seconds—just shy of the barbed wire fence line separating my land from my new neighbors—the deer's nose brushed the dog's butt.
I found it hard to believe, and you may doubt my veracity, but I swear that somehow that laboring beagle put his acceleration into overdrive. Likely adrenaline and glycerin boosted his bio system! The doe, not out for a kill, backed off, savoring yet another victory against overconfident dogs.
