A Screeching Halt

If you're old enough to remember the Mickey Mouse Club theme song-----you don't have to admit it out loud-----please sing along with me:

M-I-C............

See them all run!

K-E-Y............

Why? Because they're chicken-shits!

Because of a

M-O-U-S-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

One morning at the office I was talking to Bosslady's assistant about some supplies that we were having trouble with.
Our X-ray developer is in our stock room, and we spotted some insulation on the developer.

And a mouse turd.

The insulation could have only come from the ceiling.
The mouse dropping could only be from a mouse.

We were looking up at a ventilation unit that is directly over the developer.
On the far side of the vent unit, there was about an inch and a half of mouse tail stickin' out of the vent.

The assistant, who is one of the sweetest people you will ever meet, and a real, true-blue Christian who would take on The Flames Of Hell with a water pistol, did not see the tail from where she was standing.

So, like a true dumbass, I pointed it out to her.

In hind-sight that was a very, VERY, BAD idea. VERY bad!

She was beginning to get a little nervous when our receptionist walked in. We pointed out the tail overhead.

The receptionist flipped the vent switch on.

(THAT particular bad idea was not MY fault.)

The whirring fan startled the mouse,

which jumped around in the vent,

causing the tail of the mouse to wiggle,

and the assistant to haul ass in terror.

Likewise the receptionist.

Now the little field mouse has achieved wharf rat status.

Picture in your mind the rat that was menacing the baby in Lady And The Tramp. Two-inch fangs and red glowing eyes! Evil Incarnate! Spawn Of Satan!

It's just a small field mouse.The office is situated just outside of the city, and we are surrounded by cotton fields on three sides.    Once in a Blue Moon we find a mouse and we stay on top of pest control.

When the hygienist arrived, the mouse was still in the vent. Our frady-cat assistant was showing it to her. By now we all know that she and the receptionist are afraid of the thing.

The hygienist said that she didn't think it was a mouse, just a wad of dust or insulation sticking out of the vent fan.

They flipped the vent switch,

which scared the mouse,

who's tail went to thrashing,

frightening Miss Hygiene away.

She seems to have a thing about rodents, too. She ran OVER the assistant.

How can you live in a rural setting all of your life and be afraid of everything?

Then she stated that she would take X-rays, but it would be a cold day in Hell before she would go back in that room to develop them.

We all know how mice lay in wait in ceilings for the opportunity to jump on human heads.

The assistant looks like she wants to cry.

I missed the next part because I was up front trying to convince our first patient that the mouse was NOT going to run across the building to a light fixture, chew through the plastic, take aim, and leap onto her while she was in the chair.

This woman is also afraid of mice.

Please note: It is not good to tell patients in a medical office that the office is overrun with rodents. Our receptionist had blabbed about it when the patient came in. Why? Because she's an idiot.   

It really didn't matter after the assistant let out a very loud, shrill screech that could crack glass.

She had abandoned the X-ray/stock room to set up for the patient that I was trying to calm down. She's still shaking. While she was busy, the hygienist snuck up behind her, bent over, and pinched her on the leg!

(That woman has a mean streak that I could come to admire!)

Now the boss's assistant is trying desperately not to cry, trying desperately to breathe, shaking even harder, and the hygienist is rolling on the floor about to wet her pants.

I don't know about you, but shaky hands holding suctions and sharp instruments in my mouth isn't something I want.

When Bosslady got there, everyone snapped to attention, buckled down, and the day went on like it is supposed to.

The receptionist developed X-rays. They couldn't convince the hygienist that she was not in mortal danger.

Bosslady's husband will be on a mouse hunt this weekend. Armed with glue traps that I will have to dispose of when I clean the office.

The assistant will be in prayer for the rest of us in the office, and trying to recover.

The patient got her crown prep, without anymore trauma.



Pssst:   This is why they don't know about the snake in the supply barn!   Shhhhhhhhhh................