I'd like to thank the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) and the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) for all their exception training.Without their help, today's disaster could have been much worst.
Sunday morning and I had just settled down to watch the Nascar race. The green flag had just waved when this blood curling scream erupted from the other end of the house. Daughter #3 came a running.
"There's a mouse in my room."
Normally such exclamations do not phase me, however, Daughter #3 followed it up with "It's a disaster, I don't know what to do."
Disaster? Emergency Management? Incident Command? This, is what I train for.
Daughter #3 debriefed me on the situation. "I'm not equipped to handle this."So much for the Preparedness cycle, we'll move straight into response.
"I'm sorry sweetie I cannot help you until you expend all your own resources attempting to get the mouse out." No sense breaching any procedure today.
Minutes later she returned claiming to have cleared a path for me. Having received the "Emergency Declaration", I moved in.
The place looked like a bombshell had hit. First of all I couldn't see the floor let alone the mouse - I was going to need some Resources - probably a Type III cat. Jasper Kitty was first of the Cat Corps to arrive. Debris management went into place as Jasper begun his Search and Destroy mission.
"I'm out of here," Daughter #3 stated. "I can't sleep in here tonight with a mouse running around."
Good - self evacuation, saves me issuing a mandatory evacuation order. "You shelter in place on the couch while we continue with the Response Phase."
The mouse was located but the debris was too excessive - drink bottles, empty Cheetos, how many shoes does this girl have - I was going to need another Resource, something a little stronger. I'm going to need a Type 1 cat, and in came Jacob. Just in time too, I had to release Jasper on Safety Grounds when he started to show signs of Stockholm Syndrome towards the mouse.
Jacob wasted no time and had the mouse cornered.
"Don't hurt it," Daughter #3 said, peeking through the door from the edge of the disaster perimeter.I swore under my breath, I'd forgotten about Animal In Disaster.
Within hours, I had the mouse worn out, cornered, and captured. Removed from the Disaster Zone, and I was now into Recovery, returning all the bedroom equipment back to it's original position.
"No," Daughter #3 cried. "All my shoes go back under the dresser."
"Not any more," I said throwing them into the cupboard. "Mitigation."
Had to be my own CERT team as well, sending out and paying for own pizza once the job was down. And Papa's Johns still messed up my order.
Disaster Management - it can turn your Sunday into Another Day at The Office.
