In order to break up some seriousness and add some lighthearted humor, I have decided to take a different turn on this blog post. Today, due to popular demand, I will be sharing my infamous “mouse bite story”. Some of you all may remember the story. Some may remember the bloody wrap I wore around my hand for days after missing work. Some may have no clue what they are about to read. You have been warned: the truth is entertaining.

Let us start by setting context. It was 2016 and I was still working at the Teays Valley Petco. It was early morning and I was deep-cleaning the small animal habitats. Now, I have never claimed to be an expert within these realms, but I did consider myself at least fairly comfortable with handling these animals. Anyone that works with small animals, or any animals for that matter, knows that getting bitten happens. Sometimes it’s a hard bite that really draws your attention—and a lot of blood—sometimes it’s minute and you barely feel it. Getting bitten is super normal, so when I was cleaning out the mouse habitats, I did not flinch when one of the mice bit my right index finger. Instead of grabbing the mice by the tails, I chose to scoop them up and secure them in the temporary holding habitat. One turned and bit me. I remember the bite, which was a little surprising coming from a mouse. You typically expect this kind of thing out of a hamster. I had been bitten by maybe a dozen hamsters up to this point. No big deal, I just kept working and continued cleaning. I honestly can’t remember if I even put sanitizer on it—I know, gross. I finished working and left. I just remember my finger itching a little bit. That evening I stopped by dad’s house to help him move some stuff and remember pointing it out to him.

The next couple of days were interesting. The finger started swelling and stiffening up. It wasn’t bad, just inconvenient. I get these random infections from time to time and I usually just let it run its course. I figured this was going to be no different, so I just endured through the swelling. I wrapped it with gauze to try to keep it clean and not let it get worse. The third day it got worse. It was Friday and I worked that morning. The swelling continued, it was blotchy and red, and this time there was a great deal of pain. I couldn’t even hold the scanning gun at work and use my index finger to scan. I tenderly moved around the store because I’d accidentally hit my hand on stuff, and it was painful. I left work and went out that weekend for our yearly youth camp. I went to bed that night hoping it would get better.

I woke up that Saturday morning and the pain was excruciating. I could barely move it. The swelling and redness increased, so I finally swallowed my pride and decided it was time to stop by the emergency room and get an antibiotic. I left and was driving (with one hand, of course) and pulled into the parking lot, fully expecting to be in and out with a prescription and back at camp by evening. I could not have been more wrong. I was in the exam room, and the doctor finally looked at it. He did not say much about it, but then stepped out. After a few minutes, another gentleman stepped in. I didn’t know if this guy was a nurse, another doctor, or what, but he says something along the lines of, “we are getting ahold of the surgeon, we are hoping we can get you in tomorrow morning” and mentioned they were working on getting me a room. My jaw must have hit the floor. The original doctor returned and explained to me that the infection had traveled from the proximal phalanx region of my right index finger (think, it’s the section of the finger where a ring lays) into the joint where oral antibiotics couldn’t reach them, forcing surgery to clean it out.

Up to this point I had never been admitted in a hospital. Every surgery or procedure ever performed on me had been an outpatient surgery. I had most recently worked at the jail for a couple years, before that I’ve worked various security, loss prevention, home health care and construction jobs. I grew up playing football and baseball. I’ve been hit in the head with a baseball, withstood multiple concussions, been in dozens of hands-on incidents with inmates and even fell down a flight of stairs while fighting with a felon. But four months working at a pet store landed me a 3-day stay in the hospital. Because of a mouse bite. I wish my story was cooler, but it’s not.

The procedure itself was not bad. I was knocked out, they cleaned it out, and I woke up with a tube through my finger. Every hour the nurse would come in with saline and flush the infection. I could feel the cold saline in my finger. I stayed in the hospital for three days and missed my dogs so much. I think they were just as happy to see me as I was to see them. Now that it has been over two years, I have 2 scars to show for it, one near the palm of my hand and one on the side of my finger. I also have some awesome photos somewhere.

If there was any good to come out of this, I did happen to discover the Chuckit Launcher and I’m in love with it. Because both my boys are very high-energy dogs, fetch was a staple in our exercise. Because my throwing hand was the one injured, I could throw nearly as well with my non-dominant hand. I bought a Chuckit launcher and I have not gone back to throwing the tennis balls like before. The launcher not only allows me to throw farther, but also alleviates any soreness I would experience and eliminated fatigue. Along with the launcher, I have also abandoned traditional tennis balls and only use the Chuckit Ultra balls. I experimented with this during the winter when it would snow. Traditional tennis balls would accumulate snow on the felt and I would lose them easier. The durable rubber coating prevented this and the orange color would stand out in the snow. They also don’t deteriorate like a traditional tennis ball does. My boys like to chomp on the ball like bubble gum as they return to me, so the Chuckit Ultra ball holds up so much better. Lastly, the Ultra ball stands out from traditional tennis balls, which makes it easier to differentiate what balls belong to me at places like the dog park.

I won’t give a long and formal conclusion to this post. This was more so for entertainment purposes and to help you get to know your Petco Senior Dog Trainer a little better. Do you have any small animal related questions? Come up to Petco in Barboursville, WV and talk to one of our knowledgeable partners today! If you have any questions about dog training or want to bring your dog up to meet me, let me know and we will set up a free “Meet the Trainer” seminar or we can schedule a meet and greet!