Scott Linden Outdoors

No silly words on a bandage will stop a determined wirehair from “Yes Chew.”

He’s hardly a puppy anymore at seven years old. In fact, in the eye of the pet food industry, Manny is now a “senior dog.” If he could read that, he’d resent it. Much like the splint and bandage he wrestled off his left foot last night.

Today’s Chronicle is about the patient, stoic wirehair from the same kennel as his protege’. His broken toe is what led to bringing home Flick, so thanks for that, Manny. While crippled up, he’s been an understanding and kind uncle – tolerating the yipping and crying every puppy uses to tell the world how miserable he is, the jumping up, the nervous energy when everyone else is chilling.

While recovering, he is amazingly, the opposite of stir crazy. Manny has, perhaps, been entertained enough by the antics of his apprentice to forget he couldn’t run and jump. He’s been content to watch the proceedings with interest, even what might be avuncular concern if I read his looks correctly. Only after six weeks did he start picking and worrying the clearly-labeled “No Chew” bandage last night, and when I added Bitter Yuk anti-chewing spray it may as well have been beef gravy. Within minutes much of the bandage was off. He’d had enough, and I can’t blame him.

Maybe it was Manny’s way of saying he was ready to run. Okay, walk carefully for a while and then run. Whatever else it was, it was his statement that enough was enough of that unnatural appendage that hindered his gait and looked silly, what with the logos all over it telling him what not to do.

I got the hint, Manny. Today we start getting us both back into shape without a bandage to slow us down.