I was at the end of a very long day of showing rural properties to a family from out-of-state. This day came on the end of several very long days of showing property across several counties. (By the end of the week, I'd have over 800 miles on my car.) We went into the house and the 13-year-old daughter made it to the main bath before the rest of it. I heard her call out, "There's a mouse in the bath tub!"
When I got there, I saw there were actually two mice in the bathtub... Well, one mouse and what was left of another mouse. One was dead and had been dead for quite some time, from the state of his remains. The other one was barely alive. It wasn't one of those snively, skinny nosed city mice, it was the cute little fluffy, big-eyed, round-eared field mice like you'd find in a children's picture book that could talk and perhaps do other amazing things. But this mouse was barely alive and quite silent. He was hungry, thirsty and there was no telling how long he'd been there. He was in bad shape.
I now went from showing a home as an Exclusive Buyer Agent, to wildlife conservator. I switched roles and did something I never do...set down my purse.
I went outside and found a bucket, and I found a kleenex box and gently pushed the mouse into the bucket. The whole family went outside to witness the cute little mouse, his release back into the wild and what would happen next. Someone ran to the car to get food - Chex mix. The mouse began to eat to the delight and relief of everyone. (He was awfully cute.)
This was at the end of a very long day of viewing homes. It was about 8 pm, we hadn't stopped for dinner and I hated to admit it, but I was feeling in about as good of shape as that little mouse. My clients told me they had seen all they needed. It wasn't the right house, so I locked it up, we had a brief pow wow about the next day's activities and we drove down the long dusty, gravel road back towards town, food and stronger cell phone signals.
Since I'd been away from home over 12 hours, I decided to call my husband and tell him I was on my way home....but I couldn't find my purse. I pulled the car over and realized what had happened. My clients were behind me, and I flagged them over to tell them my purse had become separated from my body when I went from "Exclusive Buyer Agent" to "Mouse Savior." I told them to go ahead and go, I'd figure something out, but could I please use their phone to call for help.
My wonderful clients said, "No, we will not leave you alone out here at dusk. We'll go back to the house. We'll find a way in." (I did call the listing agent but was unable to reach her.)
When we got there, we found a window that was cracked open. We decided we could hoist one of the girls through the window. The 13-year-old was a little hesistant, but the little sister cheered her big sister on, "You're just like a ninja! You can do it!"
My purse was retrieved, the house was buttoned up tighter than we found it, the mouse had revived on chex mix and was on his way. I was embarrased for setting my purse down, but was relieved about a fairly quick reversal of the situation. I'd just experienced a memorable adventure, learned a lesson and was the recipient of the kindess of my clients and their concern for me. The girls had a great "What I Did on My Summer Vacation" story and we'd eliminated yet another house from the list of possibilities.
The lesson that was brought home to me was to always make sure I have my purse, my key, my cell phone, and return to the role of Exclusive Buyer Agent, at the end when I"m locking up the home, no matter what new role I might discover and have to fall into when I enter a home.
A cautionary tale with a happy ending for everyone...well, for at least one mouse.