Remember the story last week, the “economic limit” episode between Zack the Wonder Dog and MLH?
Well, Zoie the Wonder Pup hit the big bucks this morning. Thus, it begins…
This morning, I called MLH at 5:30 a.m. (He was out of town on a consulting job.) He didn’t answer. A minute later, he called me back. Conversation went much like this…
Me: Hey, babe…did you not hear your phone?
MLH: Oh, I heard it all right. I just couldn’t find it. I was looking for my glasses – I’ve been looking for them for an hour. I can’t see.
Me: Your glasses? You can’t see? (a lump of dread forming in my stomach) Did you find them?
MLH: Yes. (clipped voice.) YOUR wonder pup woke up about 3:30am and I took her out to do her business. When I brought her back in, I put her get in bed with me. And I guess while I was asleep, the little @#$*% crawled up and stole my glasses from the bedside table and demolished them.
Me: Oh, no.
MLH: Oh, yes. Jane (he only calls me that when he’s very, very upset!), I am wondering about the wisdom of getting another pup right now. (And he goes off into a short tirade.)
Me: (Very quiet – listening hard, and thinking harder.)
This presents a problem. Zoie the Wonder Pup has not only chewed MLH’s Oakley glasses with non glare lenses, they are prescription glasses. Progressive bifocals. Expensive progressive bifocals. Need I mention, they are MLH’s only pair? And that he is in Orla, Texas – 2 hrs from his optometrist? Who is probably booked to the max, anyway, and that MLH’s glasses are definitely special order?
MLH: And I’ve got to perform this very detailed, specific procedure out here today, and I can’t see. (And off he goes again, second-thinking our thinking about getting a new pup. I let him roll for a minute or two.)
Janie: Hey. Hey.
Janie: Zack and Zoie are definitely “our land”, right, part of that the Lord’s given us? And we thoroughly explored every facet of getting a new pup, right? We knew stuff would happen – they’re shorthairs! So…you’ve got a very important job to do out there today. You cannot go out angry – you have to be clear and straight thinking. So let’s look at it this way. Had it been Elder or Younger Son, and they were babies, and one of them messed up your glasses, you wouldn’t even be mad because you’d realize you had some culpability, right? And Zoie is just a pup, right? So, babe, you’d best look in the mirror and realize your portion in this, and walk on over that bridge. (MLH starts laughing, and I breathe easier.) Is there any way you can modify the glasses to get through the day, or are they totally trashed?
MLH: I’m working on it. She chewed every piece of rubber, I can’t find the pin, the lenses are scratched all to hell, I’ve got to go get some tape – and remember, these glasses are made entirely of molded plastic. I’m going to try to fix them, if I can. Can you go by the doctor’s and see what miracles you can work? Don’t even call me for a decision, just do whatever you can do to get me going again. We’ve got tons of your clients’ parties to attend, starting this weekend, and I’m going to look like a doofus with black tape on my Oakley designer glasses, that’s if I can even see through the scratched lenses.
Me: Sure. No problem. I love you, be careful out there.
MLH: I love you, too, babe.
So, I get ready for work. Take breakfast to a customer’s office. And when the eye clinic opens, I’m there…for 1 ½ hours. MLH has an eye disease, and he’s about to have his 6th corneal transplant. He’s probably close to being legally blind, which translates to a very stout prescription – I’m pretty sure there’s nothing they can turn around in a day, or even 2 days.
In the eye clinic, I explain the situation.
Technician: He’s in a town, right? He can go to a clinic there and they can fix him up (this is before she even looks up his file.)
Me: The glasses are beyond repair. He’s going to try to nurse them through. Is there anyway you can help me get started on this today? I promise you, the town he is in doesn’t even have a convenience store –much less a Walmart. It’s smaller than 1/4 of Stanton, with no commercial vendors whatsoever.
Technician: Every town has something, even the oilfield is there, I’m sure someone could solder the glasses. I’m sure they…
Me: Okay. Please. Please stop. I AM the oilfield. 23 years worth. I know about soldering. Can you solder plastic glasses? The Oakleys? No? I didn’t think so. Not without special stuff. Will you look at his file? Let’s play like I came in here, and you absolutely positively have to help me find a solution, and the word “no” cannot be a part of the equasion. Can you do that?
Me: Please. ma'am. Please. Look at his file. Then, we can talk. I’m not trying to be rude, but we have an extenuating circumstance with his glasses, much less his prescription.
At that point, everything started turning around for the better…I think.
The technician and I ended up settling on emergency budget glasses, with another pair for readers. (If you consider budget to be $448.) Those will be in on Monday.
And, I reordered the Oakley frames, just to save time. MLH will see the doctor on Monday, get a new prescription, as well as a new referral to the surgeon in Dallas, and we’ll start this process again. They will overnight the Oakley frames, then send them off to fit the lenses. It usually takes 2-3 weeks for those glasses with the progressive lenses and non-glare tint to come in.
MLH came in tonight, and we went to supper. He’s laughing about it now…thank God.
And the Zoie-monga?
She’s bouncing around like she’s the baddest spotted shorthair ever. She may well be.
But at least the little heifer’s made it one more day.