You can’t deny laughter; when it comes, it plops down in your favorite chair and stays as long as it wants.
~Stephen King
In a panic, the receptionist ran to my treatment room, talking faster than anyone could understand. Then, with her arms flailing, she blurted out, “Regina is here, but you won’t believe it!”
I was Regina’s dental hygienist. At her previous dental appointment, I explained, “Next time, the treatment will be rather complicated and lengthy.” Before I could say another word, Regina said she needed to bring her service animal to calm her. I knew that refusing entry for a service animal was illegal, so I reluctantly agreed.
I had my treatment room prepared and waited for our patient’s arrival.
The receptionist squealed, “Regina strolled into the dental office with Ginger. It’s a pot-bellied pig!”
I laughed, envisioning a cute little creature. “It can’t be that bad,” I exclaimed. “Regina told me the animal sits on her lap and cuddles, but she never mentioned it was a pig.”
With Ginger on a pink leash, Regina made her way to the treatment room. My mouth dropped open when I spotted the animal. Before me, I saw a full-grown, one-hundred-and-fifty-pound pig grunting and knocking over equipment.
As Regina seated herself, we had no idea how to accommodate such a huge, unruly animal in the treatment area. Ginger rested her snout on Regina’s lap. I thought, We need to figure out the health codes in such an impossible situation.
Our dilemma was soon solved when I asked for the papers verifying that Ginger was a service animal. Regina confessed that her pet had no formal training and was not certified, but she pleaded for the pig to stay since the animal soothed her anxiety.
My mask hid my exasperated expression. I thought, Ginger may calm Regina’s anxiety, but it sent mine through the roof!
I politely asked Regina to leave before the cute piglet left us a present on the carpet. Then, we escorted the duo out a side door before any patients got wind of our barnyard friend.
Unintentionally, the receptionist planned this appointment well, having scheduled Regina as the last patient before the lunch break. It proved to be a lifesaver. When Regina left, massive amounts of disinfectant spray filled the treatment room, and every surface was scrubbed and sanitized.
We were able to have the office ready for the afternoon appointments. We all burst out laughing when our first patient after lunch was holding a toy playing “Old MacDonald Had a Farm.” I looked at the little girl, giggled, and sang along, “E-i-e-i-o.”
— Terry Hans —
