AUTHOR'S NOTE -- Yeah, I'm goin' to the dentist tomorrow mornin' ... is what inspired this ...




"Sit in the chair."

Field swallowed. Whiskers twitching. And carefully did so, and ...

" ... lean back," was the instruction.

He did.

"I have never performed with your teeth," said the snow leopard, with a bit of a Russian accent, "before. You are new," she said, "to me." And she got a little bib. And put it around his neck. And brought the overhead light down. And ...

... the mouse squinted hard, turning his head a bit. The light so bright!

He was at the dentist. Early in the morning, and at the dentist.

Field breathed, breathed, and closed his eyes.

"Open the eyes."

He did so.

"And open the muzzle."

He did so.

"Go 'ah' ... "

"Ah ... " He opened as widely as he could.

"Mm," was the snow leopard's response. She grabbed little, silver tools from her tray. The room was bright. There were pictures of happy muzzles. Happy teeth. And light, pop-like music was playing over the speakers in the ceiling. "I once knew the mouses. They were ... toothy," the snow leopard purred. "Mm." An eye-smile from her, and she took the silver tool that was hook-like ... and jabbed it on the top of his teeth. "Are you ... toothy?" she asked, squinting, and using the little tool with the mirror-like end ... to look at the backs of his teeth.

"Uh ... " He made an 'I don't know' response ... which was hard! With his muzzle as full as it was!

"Does the mouses," she asked, her accent heavy, "wash with salt-water rinse? Daily?"

"Uh ... "

"One does not want the mouses to have gingivitis." A purring sound. More poking and prodding of the mouse's teeth. It hurt! A bit ... anyway. As she poked around his mouth and continued, "If you do not wash ... gingivitis," she said, "will be having YOU."

Field didn't know what to make of THAT comment. He just whisker-twitched, eyes open, muzzle open. Tools in his mouth. Mm ... he was never one to have cavities. In fact, he'd never HAD a cavity. Honest! Never. So, no reason to think he'd have one today. But, all the same, he (like a good fur) went to the dentist twice a year. To have his teeth cleaned. To have a check-up. After all, a mouse with no teeth ... he shuddered to think. How could he nibble on his mate's ears and neck ... if he had no teeth? Never mind about eating!

"Mm ... interesting," she went. "Mm. I would say your teeth is not going to be falling out anytime," she confessed, "soon. Now, we must dispense with the cleaning. Rinse."

"Mm?"

"Rinse." She pointed to the paper cup ... and the little water spout. And the little sink. Just off the side of his chair.

Whiskers twitching, ears swiveling, and ... tail snaking lightly (hanging off the left side of the reclining chair), the honey-tan mouse ... sipped from the water. Sloshed it about his mouth. And spat it out in the sink. Seeing it was a bit pink. All her poking and prodding had made his gums to bleed. He made a twitching, lip-biting face, and ... slowly leaned back. Seeing that the snow leopard had gotten one of those whir-whir tools ... with the mint stuff. That she would whir onto his teeth. To clean his teeth.

"I have chosen," she announced, "the mint for you. Toothy mouses needn't bubble gum flavoring ... in their teeth cleansers. Agreed?"

Field nodded weakly. Something about this new dentist ... really, really intimidated him. Maybe it was the accent. Maybe it was ... well, she was a snow leopard! A mighty, Arctic huntress, and she was putting all these pointy, shiny tools into his mouth, and what if she ... had a predatory urge, and what if ... he was helpless on this reclining chair, and ...

"You will be leaning back now," was the snow leopard's instruction.

Field took a deep, deep breath. Closed his eyes. And, again, leaned back. And swallowed. And opened his muzzle ... and opened his eyes. And watched as her big, padded paw ... with its claws buried inside those pads, not extended ... she put the whir-whir tool into his muzzle. And all the way back to his molars. She was gonna start in the back, and ...

... whir-whir! Whir!

Field almost clenched down ... at the action. But kept himself from doing so. It felt SO odd, the feeling, and ... but at least she wasn't poking his tender gums with pointy pieces of metal. But his whole muzzle vibrated. His teeth felt the tremors ... as the whir-whir tool coated his white teeth with the mint stuff. Coat, coat ... whir-whir. Whir.

The snow leopard stopped. "You may take a drink of the water. Rinse."

"Are we ... "

" ... not done," she assured. "I will be telling you when we are done."

"Alright," Field said weakly, sitting up, whiskers twitching, and ... re-filling his paper cup. With water. And sipping. And rinsing.

"I sense you are feeling a bit of the tension. Nyet?"

"Uh ... well, I don't know," Field admitted, as he spat his water out. His teeth felt sandy. "Mm ... I just get nervous around doctors and dentists. Around needles and sharp things, and ... I don't know."

"You wish to have the healthy set of teeth, do you not?"

"I do ... "

"That is why you are here. To let me give you a healthy set of the teeth, da?"

"Uh ... yes?"

The snow leopard's eyes glinted. "That is good. That is good for the mouses."

"I just ... " Field sighed, leaning back in the reclining chair. Tugging subconsciously at the bib around his neck ... " ... mm ... I don't like being ... like, stuck in a chair ... with a feline hovering over me." A nervous twitch and sigh. "You know, instinct and all? I ... my heart's all hammering." He swallowed, throat dry. Just the smell of a predator. And a predator with silver, sharp, shiny tools! Made him very, very nervous.

"I am not the felines. I am the snow leopards."

"Well, you're ... still a feline."

"I am better," was her response, "than a feline. I am a snow leopard."

Field opened his muzzle to respond, but ... kept it shut. Best not argue with her. She was ... well, he didn't KNOW. Just don't mess with her, Field. Don't argue. Please. Just ... let's get this over with. Get it done. Cooperate.

"I will resume with the cleaning of the teeth," she said. Not a question. Not a reminder. But a statement-of-fact. "Mm ... I love," she purred, "the teeth. So sharp. So ... able to chew. So ... glinting in the light. All white and with character. For tearing into meat ... "

... whir-whir! Whir! Field nearly jerked ... as she resumed the cleaning. From the sound and the vibrations, and from her words.

"For tearing, for ... biting ... nibbling on a lover's fur. Do you not like nibbling on your lover's fur? Do you have a lover?"

Field his mouth full, flushed. Ears turning rosy-pink! That was a rather personal question ... coming from his new dentist. And he couldn't reply, anyway, with his muzzle full.

"I bet you like the biting ... mm ... you seem like the mouses that likes the biting. All submissive, like good mouses. You seem the natural type."

Field blinked, mouth still being vibrated, teeth still being rubbed on by the whir-whir tool ... tongue tasting of grainy mint. She was actually, the snow leopard, closer to the truth than she realized. He DID love ... biting. Not that HE did much biting. Yeah, the nibbling. Nibbling his mate's ears, her neck, her shoulders ... but it was HER. It was Adelaide, the pink-furred bat, his mate and love ... with her fangs? With her bat fangs? It was SHE ... that had the teeth. The great set of teeth. The very happy teeth! And when she bit with them ... mm ...

"Teeth are the very important part of the muzzle ... they give balance. They give ... solidity," the snow leopard continued.

Field couldn't even nod. His mouth shaking.

Until she stopped. "Rinse," was her command.

Field weakly did so. He wanted ... out ... of ... this chair! The predatory smell of her, her fur, and ... his gums aching, and ... he wanted out of this chair! And he turned his head and saw a big, model toothbrush. And a big set of fake teeth. Smiling at him. His whiskers twitched, and he looked away.

"Happy teeth," the snow leopard said, getting out more sharp, shiny tools, "make for happy furs. You will watch your gums, da? Wash them with the rinse ... I do not want mouses to have diseases in his gums. That would be bad for all."

Field swallowed, nodding lightly. "Yeah," he whispered. It would ...

"Do you use the floss?"

"Uh ... um, well ... not as often as I should," he admitted.

"Use the floss! Daily!" Her eyes glinted. "Floss is the important element in keeping the happy teeth."

"Well ... I thought brushing was," the mouse offered weakly.

"Brushing AND flossing. They are a marriage. A marriage making for happy teeth," she continued.

And, when Field tried to sit up, she kept her paw on his chest, pinning him back. "I must poke at your gums. You will feel some pain."

"What?"

"I must clean BETWEEN your teeth," she emphasized. "To remove tartar and plaque."

A hard swallow from him. And ...

... jab! Jab! Scrape, scrape, scrape ...

... and his thin, naked, pink mouse-tail shot STRAIGHT out ... going erect, hanging above the floor. His whole body tensed. Fur bristling. Ow, ow, ow, ow ...

... scrape, scrape ... scrape! Jab, jab!

"You are tensing ... a bit of the mouse tension. I think you are in need of a relaxing."

Tail still erect, fur still bristled, Field just shut his eyes ... as she 'cleaned' his teeth. And he diverted himself until he heard the command to 'rinse,' and ... his tail sagged limp, and he leaned up and drank of water, sloshing it, and spitting it out. Seeing blood swirling down the little drain. He sagged, whiskers drooping. "Mm ... "

"You will promise to take good care of the teeth? And the gums?"

"I brush every day. I ... use mouth wash ... "

"Floss! And rinse with the salt-water rinse!" the snow leopard insisted.

"Okay, okay!" Field squeaked, shrinking back ... the snow leopard a bit TOO close for comfort.

A purr from her. "It is good ... the smell of clean-toothed mouses in the morning." A toothy grin. "I shall be letting you go. Make sure, before you leave, to make for another appointment ... in six months."

"Six months," Field whispered, weakly getting out of the chair.

She removed his bib, and leaned over.

Field tensed.

But she was only reaching for a toothbrush. "For you."

"Uh ... thanks," said the mouse. Almost forgetting: you got a free toothbrush every time you left the dentist. He sighed, and ... padded away ... having gotten the 'clean bill of teeth health' from the snow leopard. And setting up his appointment, he wandered outside, into the very hot, very dry heat of late-July. In this warm, warm weather, and ... still very early in the morning!

He sat on the wooden steps of the dentist's office ... and waited until the car pulled up. And the mouse got up and scurried round the other side. Adelaide had been doing some grocery shopping ... while he'd been getting his teeth checked.

"How was it?" the pink-furred bat asked, from the driver's seat, as Field got in the car.

"I ... I think I'm scared of the dentist now," was the mouse's cute, disturbed response. As he put on his seatbelt.

Adelaide smiled brightly, giggling. "You are, huh?"

"Mm-hmm." A weak nod. A whisker-twitch.

"But no cavities, right? You got happy teeth?" She drove them out of the tiny parking lot. In this little town.

Field smiled, nodding. "Mm ... I have happy teeth," he admitted, and ... reached a paw to trace his fingers across her winged arm, and ... he leaned across and kissed her cheek. Thought about kissing MORE, but ... held back. He could do that when they got home.

And reading his mind, she nodded. Confirming his hopes.

So, they drove out of town. Back to the countryside. Back to the farm. Happy furs ... with happy teeth.