“What?" – Wilson the ABC last night

I haven't talked about Wilson the Amazing Border Collie in a minute. He's aging, somewhat gracefully. The middle child was at our house and as Wilson the ABC wandered around looking for a reason to earn a biscuit, the child said, wow, he's really stomping around these days. I hadn't noticed, but he is less graceful, for sure. Much lumpier. Long walks have given way to standing on the porch and yelling at the neighbor dogs.
Next door, they inherited a little toy-poodle-like-dog named Coby. Coby comes out to the yard to do her business and Wilson can't stand it. I'm not sure what, if anything, poor Cobie did, but she gets an earful. Every day. You'd think Wilson the ABC would lay off, but no, he gets the furs up on his neck and growls and barks and shakes his Wubba toy at her. (I assume it's to tell her what will happen if she comes into his yard or something like that)
Wilson the ABC will occasionally pinch a nerve and his hind legs stop working. It's sad to see because I know how it feels. Sometimes my aging body doesn't respond to my brain signals either.
When we leave the house for a while, I always tell him goodbye and remind him to be a good dog. It's been this way for over a decade. 99% of the time, when I return, it looks like he's followed instructions, like the amazing border collie he is.
Last night was a one-percenter. All I can figure is Coby must have come out for a tinkle because the old man was riled up enough at something to chew the window casing facing the neighbor's yard. He must have really wanted to get out because there were splinters on the ground, teeth holes in the metal frame holding the glass, and the window is cracked. Mother cusser.
I guess the old man still has some fight left. I just wish he'd taken it out on something else. Now I have to talk to one of those window sales guys wandering the neighborhood.
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