Skully And Mu(r)lder

I was getting my usual evening run done when it was rudely interrupted by a phone call from one of my staff. Apparently apart from being a clinician and an administrator, I am also a counselor.
So as I was listening to the other end pouring her heart out about work issues, I noticed something weird lying at the back of my treadmill.
To my horror, it was a decapitated mouse.
And it looked fresh.
Gross.

I glanced at my children, who were on the computer playing some games. Luckily they hadn't noticed.  Had they did, they'd be in hysterics.

Where the heck did it came from? I figured it must have either been brought in by a sneaking stray cat or it must have gotten in by the sewer hole from the ground floor toilet. The latter seemed more plausible at first as the treadmill is only a couple of  meters away from the toilet. It must have sneaked in between the machine and somehow got snagged by the belt or something. But then  I thought, there should be traces of fresh blood, wait, sprays of red mouse blood on the mill and the wall but there was none.
So I deducted it was maybe brought in by an unsuspecting cat.
Bodo punya kucing.

Trying to keep my voice steady and avoid panicking ( while left hand still holding the phone to my ear), I grabbed an empty plastic bag. The initial plan was to pick up the mouse with the plastic bag but then I got queasy. No way was I going to hold a mouse, berlapik or not.
Then while the other end was babbling and me uh-huh-ing, I got a dustpan and shoved the decapitated carcass into it with a broom, put the poor animal in an old shoe box and it went straight away into the outside bin.
After ending the call, I mopped the whole area around the treadmill to konon disinfect the area.


Then I went back running. (ha)
But in the middle of it all, it suddenly came to mind.
What if the mouse really got decapitated by the belt or the motor.
The head should be  lying somewhere. Exclamation mark.
Then , right there and then I started to panic.
About leptospirosis, about the possible stench of decomposition in the house, about the possibility of other mice getting in the house.
 But what I panicked most about was the THOUGHT of finding the mouse's head

Okay, I consider myself as an independent woman but when it comes to finding decapitated mouse heads, I simply had to call the  man of the house.
" We have a serious problem" I told my husband who's miles away.
"Why don't you  lift up the treadmill and look under it?" he suggested.
" Who me? Never."
" How about getting the pakcik next door to look for it?"
" Are you kidding? He'll think we're living in filth."
"So what's your suggestion, genius?"
"You find it. When you get back." And that would be a mere 18 more hours to go.
So he agreed.
And the thawing chicken on the kitchen counter made me sick and me and the kids ended up having take-outs for dinner.

But hey presto, after 18 hours there was no stench of rotting flesh.At all.
And no, I did not Febreezed the house.
WW took a peek under the treadmill and found nothing but dust bunnies.
Weird huh.
Wuuu wuu wuut wuut wuut wuuuut ( okay, that was supposed to sound like the X-Files opening theme)

So you'd think after learning the possibilities of my dreadmill being a rodent decapitator would stop or at least cease me from using it?
Wrong.
Out of sight, out of mind, baby.
A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
And this girl needs to run.

Even if there is a little skull lodged in the machine somewhere.
Wuuu wuu wuut wuut wuut wuuuut .