OUR old dog Timmy could double-think. To amuse visitors I would do an old sleight of hand trick with his doggie treats.

I’d show him the biscuit in my right hand. Then I’d pretend to put it in my left hand, closing my fist.

Tim would wait patiently.

Holding my two closed fist in front of him, I’d say, "Which hand?" He’d then put a paw on my left hand which, when I opened it, to every one’s amazement, it was empty.

I then open my right hand and there was the treat. I say to everyone’s amazement but not Timmy’s.

He knew I wanted him to pick the wrong hand, which he did to please me. I knew he was kidding me along because all the time his eyes never left the right hand with the treat.

So I wasn’t really taking the Mickey out of him. He was condescending to me. Unlike a guy I knew who for a laugh, would wind up his alarm clock and whatever time of day it was his old dog would go to bed.

Back in the ’70s we all let dogs roam the streets. Our dog Flossy would go to the pelican crossing and wait till the lady from the hairdressers came out to press the button so she could cross.

Dogs are often creatures of habit.

When we visited Uncle Wilf in Skelmanthorpe he’d shout through the door "Don’t let the dog out".

The reason for this was his old dog Pip was blind and if he was let out he’d round up the cattle and drive them home to the milking shed.

If he couldn’t find the cows he try to round up the combined harvester, which understandably didn’t react to his barking.

So he’d resort to biting it, which of course didn’t do what was left of his old teeth any good.

This Uncle Wilf is not to be confused with my namesake Meltham Uncle Wilf, who is now in heaven.

I hope he’s not sitting on a perch being menacingly stared at by all the turkeys he sent for Christmas dinners.

I was once at the Shat ‘Skelmanthorpe’ farm with Ray Murray.

He turned to me and said in amazement.

"Just look at the size of that bull".

This creature was looking at us over the top of a half door.

You can imagine how big it looked because its chest and head were above the door, so it looked 7ft tall.

We were apprehensive, but we thought this merited a closer look.

We edged towards the beast which was totally unconcerned about our approach.

We looked over the door and burst out laughing. The bull was standing on a thick layer of deep litter or hay bales.

It had a huge body but very short legs.

This reminded me of the old farmers in the past who had pictures of their prize bulls painted.

They liked their beasts massive so they are often depicted as large oblong beasts with little legs.

I thought surely that shape doesn’t exist in nature.

Then one morning I looked across the road at Mel and Wayne’s house.

Hanging outside the house appeared to be the skin of a large oblong cow.

Sadly this didn’t confirm the old paintings, it turned out to be the dog’s blanket.

At one time the abstract patterns on all cows were carefully drawn and registered so they could be recognised.

This of course wouldn’t work with the Galloway Beltie.

We saw two while we were on the bus coming down from Lepton.

These cows are black with one broad white stripe round their middle. In America they are called Oreos after the chocolate biscuit with the sandwiched white cream middle.

Belties with one stripe are a sort of economy stripe bovine zebra.

Animal patterning is usually for camouflage.

The only place I can think that a broad black and white stripe would blend in, is on a Zebra crossing.

I think it’s the last place you’d want to be invisible.

The zebra’s stripes are black and white.

When we paint a zebra we put black stripes on our white zebra but zebras are actually black with white stripes.So how does that work as camouflage in a coloured environment?

Well lions are colour blind. They see in black, white and shades of grey. A stampeding mass of zebras’ vibrating stripes are like an Op art painting.

The visual effect must be akin to a migraine attack for a lion.

The artist Victor Vasarely 1908-1997 is thought by many to be the first op art painter with his picture, Zebra.

His images are what I imagine a confused lion sees when hunting.

Alan Turing, the chap that cracked the Nazis Enigma code, brilliantly thought of a mathematical equation to explain why animals had different patterns.

I wonder what he’d have made of the folk today we see in plain sight wearing camouflage clothing.

They don’t find it amusing if you take the Mickey out of them.

I was once at a re-enactment event, where everyone was pretending to be in the Second World War.

A fellow and his girlfriend were walking towards me.

Everything they had on was printed camouflage from their shoes to her headscarf.

Their little dog had a camouflage lead with a coat to match.

As they approached me I pretended they’d caught me unawares.

I said, "Oh! if the dog hadn’t had his tongue out panting I wouldn’t have known you were there".

They were not amused.

This event was fascinating. One chap with a tank told me he only needed a shotgun licence to own it.

The only war artefact I had at the time was a Thornton Picard, Lewis machine gun camera.

They didn’t fire as they were used for aiming practice whilst flying the old biplanes.

They aimed and took a photo to confirm a hit.

Mine didn’t have a magazine and these are very difficult to find because being brass they were sold for scrap.

I’d previously gone to a memorabilia shop in Dewsbury.

There were two chaps behind the counter and I inquired if they had a Lewis magazine.

One of the chaps said: "No, but I do have a Lewis machine gunner’s badge".

I looked at it and said, "It’s just a badge with L and G on it. It could stand for Local Gardener or even Ladies Guild".

He was indignant and replied: "Would you like a second opinion?"

I said, "Yes I would".

Whereupon he turned to the guy next to him and said, "What’s that badge?"

His mate replied, "It’s definitely a Lewis machine gunner’s badge".

What could I say. So I bought it.

Now back to the WWII re-enactment.

I thought I’d check if the badge was bona fide.

There was a chap, in a complete Nazi SS uniform, selling badges. I couldn’t see anything on his stall similar to my badge. So I asked him if he had a Lewis machine gunner’s badge.

He said, "I did have one. You bought it last week". It was the same guy in a uniform. Now that’s camouflage.

Wilf’s autobiography to the age of eleven, My Best Cellar can be purchased at Waterstones or via his website www.wilflunn.com