You're getting old, boy.

It's funny how people (and I guess dogs) mellow with age. This chap lives on an old small farm in Morvah in Cornwall. The farm yard gate opens out onto the road where there is a sharp s bend to navigate through. If you are going in the direction of Lands End, you have to pass this guys territory before you navigate the tight section of Cornish coastal road.

For many years this guy and I used to play something of a game. I would cycle past and he would come bounding out of the yard, yapping his head off at me and chasing me like I was a fox with a chicken in my mouth.

When I was twelve and thirteen it was quite a shock, and I used to sprint into that chicane like my life depended on it. I don't think it ever did, we had a collie for years and although he knew he should chase things, he never seemed to know what to do when he caught anything. He could corner rabbits with the best of them, but as soon as he did, he would just look at them curiously. Eventually he got so used to rabbits appearing in the garden, he used to just ignore them, and them him.

But in my youth I didn't know this, many a time, when riding with friends I would be sure to try to jump them before the farm so by the time my passing had whipped the dog into a frenzy my mates would be appearing on the road. Hilarious if you're me. Less so if you were Danny Frost, the unfortunate victim of most of this. Danny also had to walk past the dog to and from the pub where he worked, and spent many a late night walking several miles out of his way through a field to avoid confrontation.

As I grew older though, and got used to the always fruitless chase, I too became accustomed to it. I would have it in my head that the dog would be coming as soon as I rounded the corner by the farm. I would shout back at him, unclip my foot and act to swing at him. We were locked in a game of very occasional and incredibly brief combat.

Then one day a couple of years ago, he stopped playing. It was so strange. All of a sudden my enemy didn't care anymore and despite my goading comments, he just wasn't having any of it. I passed time and time again, hoping for a reaction and could never get one.

Eventually today, out of respect I stopped to say hello. He got himself up and came walking over, sat by me ever so calmly and I gave him a pat. You learn to respect your enemies I suppose, and I really quite like this chap.

'I am older now, and we did it when we were young'.