Crazy Dog Report, Flannel Shirt Edition

One of the cute little foibles that makes Audie Murphy unique is his fondness for single-minded obsession over my flannel shirts. For whatever reason, whenever I dare put one on, I can expect to be enthusiastically attacked by a dog whose sole purpose in life appears to be getting his teeth into one of my sleeves and pulling it off. He literally cannot resist going after these, grabbing my forearm and corncobbing me as he tries to get a grip on just the fabric before I can crack him on the nose or grab his head and take him to the floor, at which point it's on like a Clouseau/Cato battle with both sides wrestling full out and no quarter asked or given until the first loud yelp or shouted curse word is elicited, at which point the game ceases by mutual agreement. Usually these matches result in both man and dog ending up on the floor breathing heavily, and all too often one will display fresh scratches from claws or teeth on his exposed skin, to say nothing of yet another torn flannel shirt. This silliness has gone on for over a year now and shows no sign of abating as every time Murphy sees flannel, some hidden dog whistle blows, sending him into action. And it's only flannel. He couldn't care less about any other fabric or pattern, but if I put on one of my old flannel shirts to work around the house and walk by Murphy, it's as if I just signed up for a cage match with Brock Lesnar and said something about his mother on the way into the ring. To date, I cannot figure out what causes this dog to transform into the fabric police and wig out, but it's obviously fun for him, and I confess that were it not for the attrition rate of said shirts, it might well be fun for me as well. As it is though...

Any dog psychiatrists in the house?
Hey, nice shirt you got on there...is that flannel?