Our Magical Dog

Thursday, May 01, 2008

Our amazing dog, Merlin, whom many of you know, is skilled in so many ways. He knows the names of all of his toys - even knows the difference between his goose and duck which vary only in coloring. He can open doors, both pocket and swinging. He understands more English than many 4th graders today. And apparently, he can not only drive, he can walk into a doctor's office and obtain a prescription for Michael's wheelchair.

The prescription we obtained at the ER last week was unacceptable to Michael's insurance company (what's the point of being an ER doctor if all you do is undermined by HMOs?) so he had to get one directly from his primary care physician. Michael had put in calls to his doctor yesterday but she was apparently out.

When I called him today he said that he had to fax the prescription over to the wheelchair folks but we don't have a fax. I said, "Can't your PCP fax it over?" He answered, "They won't write more than one prescription." Well, here I am thinking that the doctor's office would write the prescription and send it over to the people with the wheelchair, so I was naturally confused. When I asked him to clarify, he said that he'd gotten the prescription from his PCP. My first reaction: How??? How can anyone get to a doctor's office when they're unable to walk.

Silly Erin, he tells me. Merlin took him. And Merlin also got out of the Jeep, went into the office, spoke with the staff and doctor, got the prescription, and drove Michael back to the
house.

The wonderful, magical, scapegoat of a dog.

Edit @ 10:56pm

I feel I should clarify...

When I got home and discussed this matter with Michael, he finally admitted that, no, the dog did not in fact drive him to the doctor. Nor did the dog go into the office. But neither did Michael. Although he did use his office chair to wheel himself to the car and drive himself to the doctor which is barely over one mile away, he did not get out of the car. Instead, the doctor came out to meet him and he never left the vehicle. Additionally, he was not "under the influence" as suggested by the anonymous opinionator (whom I suspect to be one of my parents). The new prescription he's been given is woefully weak and he was also nearly due for his next dose. So, no: I'm not making any excuses for him. And, yes: He was silly to do it.

Anyway, we got a wheelchair for him today. We owe a great debt to a new friend who loaned us one that we can use for as long as necessary. Although it doesn't fold like a standard wheelchair, it's much better in that it's less than 35 pounds and the wheels easily come off and the seat folds in on itself, making it a breeze to get into a small car or my trunk. Now he can go out into the real world again, which he did tonight. He, Cousin Mikey and I went to the theatre broadcast of This American Life. It was a great experience and I left feeling even more strongly that it's one of the best radio shows. Ever.