This is the story of Pedro, a Chihuahua.
When Pedro was born, his parents welcomed him into the world, although he was
different than his other siblings. You see, Pedro had no front legs, which is a
pretty tough predicament for a dog. His family took good care of him, but by
the time he was weaned, it was clear Pedro was going to need wheels.
So, his parents checked with
their health insurer about their durable medical coverage, which is a fancy
phrase for “are they gonna pay for a wheelchair or not?”
“Well,” said the client care representative,
(which is a fancy phrase for someone who works in a boiler room in Waterloo,
Iowa and follows a script on a computer screen) “you have coverage at 100
percent, but only for a chair made from paper clips, Fun-Tak and old Tonka
truck wheels.”
Pedro’s mom and dad were not
pleased to hear this. Not at all. So they began talking with rehab experts and disability
ergonomic specialists and doing research online. To be able to run and play
like the other dogs, Pedro needed a Canine Wheel-X 9000. This was no ordinary
chair. It was made from titanium, aircraft aluminum and water-resistant micro
fiber -- and absolutely no Fun-Tak. His parents got a prescription and letter
of medical necessity from Pedro’s doctor, along with a cost estimate for the
chair. They submitted these, along with an appeal letter, to their insurance
company. Weeks later, they received a letter back.
The letter was lengthy and
technical and somehow both overly polite yet very dehumanizing, or in this
case, de-canine-izing. The upshot was: either accept the crappy uncomfortable, one-size-fits-most
chair of paper clips and Fun-Tak at no out-of-pocket cost, or spend a prince’s
ransom of their own money to get Pedro what he needed, i.e. the Canine Wheel-X
9000.
Being dedicated parents who loved
Pedro very much, they bought him the Canine Wheel-X 9000. Pedro was overjoyed,
and once he received his custom-fitted new chair that actually accommodated his
needs, he went tearing around the neighborhood. Soon, Pedro was chasing cats
and retrieving sticks. He was even able to use the fire hydrant on his own,
whereas before, he always fell over without someone to lean against.
But Pedro was no dim bulb. No sir-ee.
He was well aware that his family had been forced to move out of their custom
Dogloo A-frame into a cardboard box. And mom was stretching the daily meal of
Science Diet by adding sawdust. This was because his family had to scale back
on costs because of what they paid for his Canine Wheel-X 9000.
So, Pedro began collecting up the
– how can we say this politely? – “end products” of his digestive process. Day
after day he saved them and after he had a huge pile, put it all into a paper
bag. He put it on a little trailer and hauled it very, very far – all the way
across town to the home of the company president of his family’s health
insurance provider. On the president’s doorstep, when no one was looking, Pedro
dumped the heavy paper sack onto the stoop. He lit the sack with a match and
then knocked on the door by kicking it.
Then -- because he had the right wheelchair
that accommodated his needs -- he was able to run like hell. Once across the
street, Pedro watched as the door opened, a man came out and began stomping out
the flaming bag. Then the man examined his own shoes and cursed a blue streak.
It was a long trip back home, but
Pedro ran briskly, his little tail wagging the whole way.
THE END.
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