The Day a Dentist Lost 1200 USD to a Mouse and a Marketer

September 12, 2025, Langley Dental Practice

Diary of a Bad Luck Dentist – Richmond Hill, Ontario   Monday, 8:00 a.m. Started the week like any other. Brewed coffee, checked my schedule—eight patients booked, three fillings, one root canal. Smooth sailing, or so I thought. Monday, 9:45 a.m. The nightmare began. Mrs. K, my first filling of the day, was told to wait for 30 minutes in the reception. She didn’t mind at first… until it happened. A small, whiskered creature darted across the waiting room floor like it owned the place. Monday, 9:47 a.m. Her scream could be heard three units down the strip mall. And then she told me her profession: digital marketer. Of all people, why did fate send me someone who knows exactly how to write viral, reputation-destroying posts? Monday, 10:00 a.m. Panic mode. I apologized. I begged. I prayed. Nothing worked until I pulled the ace card: “Mrs. K, today’s $450 filling… is on the house.” Her frown turned into the faintest smirk. Crisis temporarily averted. Monday, 11:30 a.m. Dialed the first pest control company I could find. $750 later, they promised to “eliminate my rodent situation with military precision.” The technician looked at me like I’d been invaded by aliens. Honestly, it felt like it. Monday, 2:00 p.m. The thought haunted me: every chair, every drawer, every box that pest might’ve touched… suddenly felt contaminated. I couldn’t risk another patient spotting a whisker or dropping a one-star review. Monday, 3:00 p.m. I called a moving supply company. “Bring boxes. Bring tape. Bring everything. I want every possible pest-kissed object sealed tighter than Fort Knox.” They thought I was relocating. In a way, I was—relocating my sanity. Monday, 7:00 p.m. Sat alone in the empty clinic. I had saved my reputation today, but at a steep cost: a) $450 lost revenue. b) $750 pest control. c) Plus the humiliation of begging a digital marketer not to post about me on Yelp. Monday, 11:00 p.m. Lesson learned: dentistry prepares you for cavities, crowns, and root canals… but nothing prepares you for the wrath of a patient with Wi-Fi and a mouse phobia.