I wonder if anyone has stories relating to Devon's Ghost dog. My late father shared this story with me. My parents owned a greengrocer's shop in Ilfracombe from 1947 to 1955. Since they had to build the business up from nothing, my father would take driving and chauffering jobs to help out. One such job was for a Belgian Count de Friston. This Count became a gentleman farmer breeding red Devon cattle outside High Bickington. One day my father received a letter from the Count with the usual grocery order plus the request to take the car to his farm. After closing the shop, father took the car to the Count's farm along some of the narrow lanes with high hedges. It was night time, and in the distance father could see what seemed to be a huge dog running towards him with what seemed to be a ball of fire in its' mouth. Realising the dog was not going to stop, he slammed on the brakes and covered his face with his arms, believing the dog would come through the windscreen of the car. Nothing happened. After some moments, father looked up. There was no sign of the dog behind or in front of the car, and the hedges were too high for the dog to have jumped over them. Arriving at the Count's farm, father was shaking and as white as a sheet. the Count asked him what was wrong and father told him. The Count said he would make some enquiries. The next time Father took the car and groceries out the Count remarked: "No dogs tonight then?" The Count's researches had found that a local landowner had taken his dogs out hunting on a Sunday when Sunday hunting was forbidden. One dog had jumped over a cliff and been killed. The tradition was that this dog still haunted the area. Now, my father was one of the most level headed, down to earth, practical people you could ever hope to meet. Thirty years later I bought a book whilst in Devon on the legends of Devonshire. I read the story of the ghost dog to my father, and his face lit up. During a subequent holiday in North Devon, we discovered the farm once owned by Count de Friston. It was owned by a lady who had collected and published seven such stories in a book for the local WI. Father said "Well, now you have the eigth story". I'd seen the farmers on an adjacent farm and asked them about the Ghost Dog. In thick devonshire she said: 'im run along top road up ther. It meant so much to us that my father's credibility had been established, since he was not a superstitious man. I would love to hear of any other stories about this dog. My father never saw any other ghosts, and neither have my mother nor myself.