A Turn for the Worst

My grandmother often complains about doctors and how they don't know anything helpful or accurate. She's dead certain that they're quacks, and in a small way, I believe her. I definitely felt this way heading to the emergency vet with Nimbus. Something just didn't sit right with me during the examination and after they handed him back to us. I should have trusted that feeling... Unfortunately, I was right.

Yesterday was supposed to be a happy day of celebration, dusts baths and relief. Nimbus was going to get his stitches out, and life would be restored to normal. No more corralling him on the bed. No more syringes with nasty medicine. No more stress.

Photo from http://scdocorg.files.wordpress.com

We entered our local vet to the great enjoyment of everyone there. Most had never seen a chinchilla nor petted its soft fur. Nimbus was a celebrity! One veterinarian assistant said, "I didn't know what it was until I looked it up on the Internet just now."

When Nimbus's fans settled down, Dr. Wall and two assistants held him down to examine his stitches... Except, there were no stitches!

Every single one had popped out, or Nimbus had taken them out. Not that it would have mattered if he did. By the size of Dr. Wall's frown, I knew REACH had messed up.

The wound was completely exposed. Although Chris and I had seen several stitches on Nimbus's arm two days before, they were gone now. The last one sat on the exam table with a tuft of fluffy gray fur attached to it. I had to turn away, and I began to feel my legs give way at the horrible sight of it. Nothing had healed. Nothing was better. We were right back the start of all.

Dr. Wall explained that REACH had used the wrong type of stitches, ones that require some very tight tying and glue to hold the knots in place. Dr. Wall insinuated that REACH should have known better and didn't understand why those were used. I had shelled out hundreds of dollars to that emergency vet with nothing to show for it except worthless medical assistance. In my opinion, REACH's only help was discovering Nimbus didn't have a sprained or broken leg. Everything else was shredded money.

Photo from chinchillaclub.com

Dr. Wall wanted the wound to remain open instead of putting Nimbus through stitches again. By looking at the cut, he noticed that there was healthy pink tissue regenerating and that the injury should scab over and heal on its own. He prescribed us two weeks of antibiotics - here we go again with that one - and scheduled us an appointment for next Tuesday.

"If the wound starts to open more, you need to bring him back in," he said.

As I carried Nimbus in the cat carrier out to the car, I didn't feel the biting winds and finger-aching cold. I was already numb from such disappointment, stress and worry. I couldn't believe it. I also felt an overwhelming, choking anger boiling up my throat. The wrong stitches??? THE WRONG STITCHES?!?! What does that even mean, "the wrong stitches??" If that's the reputation of those stitches, that they need glue to just hold the knots in place, why on earth were they used on my chinchilla in the first place??!?!?!

Angry and in tears, the ride home was very silent.  I put Nimbus back in his cage, told him to go to sleep and get some rest, then went out into the living room to stare at a wall. My mind tried to process this tragedy, this horrible mistake. Dr. Wall said he'd need 2 more weeks of recovery time with medication through syringe twice a day! No dust bath. No playtime. When he said no playtime, I stood up.

"He has to be able to play," I said. "A chinchilla's health and happiness depend on him being able to run around and explore."

I said this to Chris later, "If anything, Nimbus is going to hurt himself more by trying to get out of the cage and throwing tantrums by flying around and banging against the walls."

Dr. Wall relented, thankfully. However, Nimbus will no longer play in my room or on the bed. Instead, we have created the perfect, safe chin play area we possibly could in the living room. No more running into the kitchen. No more jumping up on the bookshelf. No more sneaking behind the couch, thanks to a lot of cardboard alcohol boxes Chris picked up from the ABC store. Nimbus can hop around on the carpet, chew on his toys, and that's it! Still, he can't have a dust bath. There's no way we can allow Blue Cloud dust to get into that open injury.

Photo from annarboranimalhospital.com

That afternoon, Chris went to pick up the medication. However, the WalMart pharmacy said they didn't have it.

"But, the vet called me this morning and told me it was ready," I told Chris on the phone.

Still, there was no medication. This morning on my way out the door, I called the vet again.

"Yes, my chinchilla Nimbus was prescribed medication by Dr. Wall yesterday. When we went to pick it up, WalMart didn't have it."

"Ok," replied the receptionist. "I'll take care of that. I'll call them right now."

Six hours later, Chris returned to the gigantic chain store to pick up the medication. The pharmacy said they didn't have it. So, I called the vet again. They answered that WalMart had told them it was ready to be picked up. My temper started to flare. On the phone, I sharply told Chris to get aggressive and get that medication.

Poor Chris stood in line and at the counter trying to convince these people they had Nimbus's medication for 30 minutes! Once again, we encountered the chinchilla conumdrum. I think there needs to be a Chinchilla Awareness campaign. The guy helping Chris had no clue what a chinchilla was or why we were giving it a generic form of bactrim. Finally, they located our medication. And, here's why it was missing for two days:

Yeah, that's not how you spell my last name.

What Chris should have said to the pharmacy was, "I know with complete certainty that there is no other medication back there prescribed to the first name of Nimbus. Can you please search for Nimbus?"

It's just been roadblock after roadblock. At this point, I just want Nimbus to get better. Please, please, let him get better. I want my beautiful chinchilla to be happy and healthy again, to be able to roll around in his beloved dust bathtub, to scamper through the house, to use the bedroom door in order to "wall surf." He acts fine, but what if it gets infected? What if he suddenly becomes sicker in the middle of the night? I can't take him back to REACH. I would never. And, there's only so much money left in my bank account. What if that runs out before he gets better? How do you choose between not spending money and your pet's life? My mind can't stop reeling from all the "What ifs?" At this rate, both Nimbus and I will be sick, one from an injury and the other from stress.

Photo from clipartof.com

Day 1

11:15 a.m. Wake up after a restless night and check on Nimbus. He is still hidden underneath his wooden house and after some coaxing, he comes out and moves to his second level. He eats a little bit of Timothy hay and snuggles with stuffed bunny. He keeps scratching at his eyes, which are still wet from some type of ointment used at the vet. His fur is matted, and his eyes look irritated. He rubs his face against his lava rock ledge, which has become a chew toy, in order to scratch himself. Completely distraught, I put some chinchilla dust in my hand, which he delightedly rolls against. Then, I place a little handful on his fleece mat. It is just enough for his face, and he draws his paw close to his body. However, he never drank any water.

11:45 a.m. Left Nimbus a soft music playlist going to keep him company and to keep him calm.

2:22 p.m. Call my regular vet to schedule an appointment to remove the stitches 10 days from now. They say I might have to leave him in order for them to observe him for negative effects of the anthesia. "So, you'll need to bring in his cage," the receptionist says. "Um," I reply, "his cage is 4 feet tall! Um, but he has a carrier!" 

2:30 p.m. Check on Nimbus. He takes a few fingertips of water from me but refuses his bottle. Eyes are still irritated. He eats a few Oxbow pellets from his radish bowl. Goes back into the wooden house soon after. 

2:45 p.m. Update the playlist so he'd have music when I step out of the house. Sadly, and I hate to do this, but I can't wait on these particular errands, like depositing money into my bank account after that huge vet bill last night. 

3:00 p.m. Call REACH to ask Dr. Gibson questions concerning Nimbus's lack of drinking. She does not come in for her shift until the 5 p.m. tonight. The vet on staff says Nimbus will be able to wait until then. Very unsure whether that doctor knows what he is talking about.... Also, have questions about Nimbus's medication, so I need to chat with Gibson anyway. 

3:35 p.m. Left the house to run my errands. 

4:45 p.m. Chris returns home to care for Nimbus. He sends me startling text messages that Nimbus is looking quite unwell and still won't drink water. His eyes look worse. 

5:08 p.m. I am finally able to leave the Verizon store. Really? I just want to get home to my chinchilla, people. At least they were very nice and apologetic. 

5:10 p.m. Get in touch with Dr. Gibson. After listening to my description of Nimbus's situation, she thinks it is best to bring him back to REACH. However, I cannot afford a second office visit. Instead, we will try some home methods to get him going again. 

5:25 p.m. Arrive at Harold's Supermarket. Purchase raisins, apples and baby food. 

5:50 p.m. Arrive home. Cut up apples as a source for water for Nimbus. By the time I get home, his eyes are looking significantly better. We try giving him apples. He takes one nibble and then refuses. Clearly, he's not an apple kind of chinchilla. Then, we have to give him his medication. After a long struggle, Chris is able to get the dose in his mouth in one go. He goes back in his cage with the most miserable look on his face, and I burst into tears. For the thousandth time, I wish animals could talk, and I hope that they can understand just how much I don't want to do these painful things to them. But, I have to.

7:43 p.m. Try to feed him baby food (carrot) mixed with water with a small spoon, and he isn't interested in the slightest. Left the bowl and a small cup of water in his cage. Still not drinking. He is being active, however, hobbling around his cage.

9:00 p.m. Let Nimbus play on my bed. I know he's not supposed to be out of his cage. But, eyes are bright. Ears are alert. He bounces on the fuzzy blanket and among the pillows. He establishes his Timothy hay bungalow as his safety place. He chewed the top off long ago so uses the open roof to look out for danger. I will not try to pick him up when he's in the bungalow to establish trust.

9:12 p.m. At the end of play time, try to get water down his throat with eye dropper. When he becomes too excited, I hold him until he calms down. Only get a little water in, but it's better than nothing. Will try again in an hour. This time, we'll go with water first then reward with play time on the bed. Take bowl of baby food out of cage.

10:08 p.m. OMG OMG HE'S DRINKING!!! HE'S DRINKING WATER!!! HE'S FINALLY DRINKING WATER!! YES, YES, YES!!!!

11:00 p.m. One final round around before bedtime. Significant improvement in attitude, energy and overall well being. Once returned to cage, Nimbus begins drinking.

Nimbus was not a fan of baby food.

The 1:30 a.m. Car Ride

Last night, I burst into quiet tears when I saw that Nimbus wasn't putting weight on his right front paw. Instead, it was tucked deep into his furry chest. He wouldn't come out of his cage or even his wooden house...where he never goes in the first place. Immediately, I called REACH, the region's 24/7 emergency animal hospital.

As we drove through the foggy and rainy highways to Asheville, I tried to imagine every situation possible of how he could have injured himself. I knew his foot was broken or sprained or something had happened with a ligament. The roads were disgusting and dangerous. Chris tried to round each curve as gentle as possible in the slippery, wet conditions. Meanwhile, Nimbus scrabbled and tried to chew his way through the carrier. He could have done it, too. Nimbus's carrier is also Sparta's. It's a cat carrier made of tough cloth and rubber mesh. It would take Nimbus 10 minutes or so to figure out how to escape. I tried every way of shushing him, even sticking my hand in the carrier. He let me stroke him for about a minute. Then, he realized how my hand was in the carrier with him. Biting and kicking, he tried to shove my hand out of the way to freedom.

Finally, we arrived at the emergency vet at 2 in the morning. REACH is a beautiful facility located just off I-40. There are two waiting rooms, one for dogs and one for cats. We choose the cat waiting area since there were two dogs and their owners waiting for help. I filled out all the paperwork. And then, we waited as Nimbus scrabbled, chewed, barked and tried to dig his way out of the carrier. He did manage to succeed in pulling apart a few of the rubber strands. Holding my heavy winter coat over the carrier to protect him from the fluorescent lights, I hoped to comfort him. However, with my scratchy, nearly nonexistent voice from the respiratory infection, I must have sounded like an alien frog to him. Finally, we were called back.

I'm not sure why the nurse assistant brought out a scale for a cat, but she did. She blamed the scale for not reading the weight of Nimbus and malfunctioning, but I'm beginning to think that the scale didn't even pick up Nimbus's presence at all. He's supposed to weigh about a pound, but it's all fluff. Finally, she brought in a much more appropriate scale, jotted it down along with his injury details and left for the vet. Nimbus, eyes bright and ears alert, kept hopping on the examination table then back into the carrier as he made short adventures to explore this world. It was the last time I saw him as my beautiful, happy, perky Nimbus.

Dr. Gibson was our vet, and she immediately went for Nimbus to examine his foot. I prayed that she'd have better luck than I and that we could just move along with a diagnose. No such luck. As she wrestled with my chinchilla, I had to hold back tears and tell myself this was all for his benefit. He certainly didn't take it that way. Chirping. Barking. Biting. Struggling. A tiny painful squeak. It makes me sick to remember it. But, what else was she supposed to do? In the end, Nimbus escaped into the carrier, and Dr. Gibson announced that they needed to take an X-ray. To do so, anesthesia was needed. My heart jumped to my throat. To sign that paperwork and hover a pen over whether to agree to resuscitate Nimbus if necessary, I suddenly couldn't remember a more important decision in my lifetime. I checked Yes, and then wondered why. What type of traumatic stress would he go through in order to get him back from death? Wasn't all this pain enough? Was I so selfish that I couldn't let him go peacefully?

When they took my baby away, I collapsed against the cushioned bench with tears streaking my face. I hugged his bunny to my chest and prayed and prayed. Chris ushered me out into the waiting. By now it was 2:45 a.m. Chris kept making comments about their frog tank, the different magazines and if I wanted a cup of coffee before I just snapped at him. When I'm handling a crisis, I don't want anyone near me. If I'm in physical or emotional pain, you better give me a wide berth because I'll take your head off. If I ever have a child (which isn't in my life plan at the moment), God help the father if he so much as shows up in the room.

At 3:15, Dr. Gibson returned and her diagnose left me speechless. The X-rays showed no broken bones. It was a healthy chinchilla skeleton, the scariest image I've come across. First, there's a standard rodent skeleton but with the outline of his large velvety ears and his large teeth. I was terrified!

"So, he has a large laceration on his bicep that goes under and around his arm," said Dr. Gibson.

My jaw dropped. Chris didn't say a word. Our minds with buzzing with how on earth could he have gotten an injury like that? I could only think that there must be a sharp edge in his cage because how could Sansa have gotten a claw under his upper arm, a body part that is usually tucked into the fur of his chest... I still can't figure it out, and it torments me. How am I supposed to keep it from happening again if I don't know what IT is??

Dr. Gibson stitched Nimbus up while Chris and I waited and waited and prayed and prayed. I just wanted my baby to wake up. I couldn't stand the thought of him under the spell of drugged sleep. When we saw him again, I rushed into the room. There was my little chinchilla with large wet circles around his eyes and a fat cast on his right arm. I've never seen such a miserable creature. My heart broke at his pain and his misery. But, it only got worse. Nimbus is required to ingest medication twice a day. There is the antibacterial liquid every 12 hours but then there's the pain medication every 24 hours. Whether or not this stuff is good for his fragile digestive system, I can't tell you. I just had to trust them, and there's a big part of me that doesn't. It's not because they're bad vets or because it's a horrible facility. On the contrary, it is a beautiful place, and everyone we encountered was extremely helpful. I just don't trust my baby with anyone else but me. To watch this male assistant shove two syringes of medication into Nimbus's mouth while I held him down left me feeling faint. By the time I received the massive bill at the reception desk, my hands were shaking, and I could feel the blood rushing into my head. My feet kept swaying my body back and forth in impatience to get out the door and into the cool air. $436 ...approximately. For a jobless college graduate, I was at a loss for words. What am I supposed to do? What if he has to go back?? What if it gets worse? Chris and I are supposed to keep constant watch to keep him from pulling out his stitches (that cast lasted about 45 seconds before he sent it flying). How can we keep track of that or make sure he doesn't hurt himself? We walked out the door in silence at 4 a.m.

The little chinchilla cast that lasted 45 seconds

The car ride home was an extremely quiet one. Chris battled the weather again. I tried my best to stay awake, but I kept nodding off with my head suddenly going slack to the left or right of the headrest, pulling me back awake. Still, I kept my hand in Nimbus's carrier. This time, he didn't care about getting out. He huddled against the far corner in fear and pain. I made sure the tips of my fingers were touching a paw or whiskers the whole ride home. I wanted him to know that I loved him and that I wasn't going anywhere. I never wanted any of this to happen. I had to put him through so much pain to heal him.

At about 5:30 a.m., I finally laid my head on my pillow. We moved Nimbus's cage into my bedroom against the wall where he is safe and secure. Chris went over the cage inch by inch and found nothing to cause such a cut. We removed the lava rock ledges, added extra chew toys, took down his hammock and lowered a wooden ledge to keep him as comfortable as possible as well as removing any strenuous activity. But, here's the kicker: For the next 10 days, my baby Nimbus - who loves everything about being a chinchilla from his dust bath to "wall surfing" to scampering across the couch - is not allowed outside of his cage or to take a dust bath. He must then go back to the vet, go under anesthesia again and get the stitches removed. How do you explain to an animal that you aren't being cruel or unfair or hateful toward them when you can't give them anything that might make them feel a little bit better because it could hurt them?? All these posts I've written about cage boredom and the importance of setting aside 1-2 hours a night of playtime for your chinchilla and I can't give that to my own. It breaks my heart to know that his is just as broken. I'm at a complete loss. If you could just see him... his sad little face... I'm so thankful he's still alive, but I don't know how to get through this without either him getting hurt or him never trusting me again. As he gets his energy back, it's only going to get much worse.

Nimbus's pain meds

A Near Loss

Yesterday, right before I wrote my post about introducing Sansa and Nimbus outside of the cage, a horrible incident took place.

Nimbus was playing in the hallway next to the washing machine and dryer.  My roommate Chris suddenly decided that he needed something from his room, the same room where Sansa is locked up while Nimbus is playing. Sitting on the couch, I heard a loud "Shit!" then saw a blur of brown fur followed by a human run across the living room, into the kitchen and down the hallway. Normally, I wouldn't get up on such an occasion but look on, knowing that Chris could handle the situation. But something was different this time, and I flew off the couch right as I heard a loud, angry hiss from the cat then Chris, with the beast in hand, shouldered past me. I immediately scrambled to find Nimbus.

Chris feeding Nimbus a cheerio

"Where is he?" I shouted. 

"He's under the washer," answered Chris. 

Bending down, I could barely make out Nimbus's form in the dark because he was so far in the back. I started making soft shushing noises, trying to convince him that everything was ok. But, he was having none of it. Instead, he began releasing a harsh barking noise, which means "I'm scared, and if you come near me, I'm going to bite." I was furious and stood to face an embarrassed-looking Chris.

"CHRIS! WHAT THE HELL WAS SO IMPORTANT??" I shrieked, referring to the object he retrieved from his room.

He mumbled something, and I told him the lift the washing machine. Still barking, there was no way to convince Nimbus the danger was gone. I pulled Nimbus out and wrapped him in the only thing I could find: a Santa Claus hat from Christmas. Safe in my arms and nuzzled in the hat, I nearly began to weep at what could have been a very different scenario. If Chris had been a few seconds late or if Nimbus hadn't seen Sansa coming, I'd be cuddling my dead or dying chinchilla. 

After stroking him, giving him a treat to calm and distract him and locking him up in his cage, I turned on Chris. 

"What was so important that it couldn't wait until Nimbus was put up?" I screamed. 

"I had to get my charger."

"Really? And you didn't know that Sansa was right there in front of the door the whole time? I knew that. She's had her paws sticking out from under the door since you put her up!!"

"I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Lex. I didn't mean to." 

"Why didn't you just put up Nimbus if you had to go in there? What if she had gotten a hold of him? It would only take a few seconds!"

There's a moment when someone makes a mistake, a honest and innocent mistake, that could have ended with horrible, irreversible consequences. And because it wasn't you who made the mistake, you take it out on the person who did. No, Chris wasn't being as careful and observant as he should have been, but he's managed to keep Sansa back on other occasions when he's needed to get into his room. On the other hand, I constantly rag on him about going in his room while Nimbus is out playing in case a situation happened like the one we experienced last night. Upset and furious, I really let Chris have it. I refused to let him touch me and remained stressed out the rest of the night. I remember feeling Nimbus's soft fur as I held him close to calm him down. For once, he didn't struggle or try to get out of my hands. He stayed close to my chest and let me console him after the traumatic event. 

It really put things in perspective. I'm very guilty of getting so frustrating with this little animal that I've wondered if I've made a mistake in adopting him. I imagine how much free time I would have not having to clean his cage. I try to remember what life was like before all of my belongings had chew marks on them and what a dropping-free floor looks like. But last night was that wake up moment, the minute you realize just how special your different pets are. May I never have to experience a wake up call like that again because I was taking Nimbus for granted or wanting my chinchilla-free life back. I couldn't be able to handle losing my Nimbus, especially so quickly after he came into my life. It's really making me look harder at the whole Sansa situation, and I believe I have convinced Chris to keep her if (but hopefully when) I move for a job. Otherwise, me alone in a new town with 3 pets will end in a disaster of stress and frustration for everyone. And, it'll be Sansa who will take the blame.

Nimbus and his safe kitty friend Sparta

Nimbus vs. Sansa Part 1

Previously, I talked about the friendship between Nimbus and my cat Sparta. They have an interesting but safe relationship with each other that involves easy play and just coexisting with each other. And then, we have Sansa.

Sansa, also known as Princess Sansa from Game of Thrones, is a stray that walked up to the door the week of Thanksgiving. After my graduation on December 14, Sansa started spending the night in the house as the temperature just plummeted outside. I have a huge heart for animals, if that's not clear, and I couldn't stand the thought of this older kitten sitting outside in the cold all night. I just can't take it. So, she began coming in at nights and returning outside in the mornings. She's just the sweetest kitty in the world, and while I'm trying to find her a permanent home, we've become quite attached to her.

Some intense kitty yoga by Sansa

Even Sparta, who doesn't enjoy the company of other cats, has fallen in love with her. They tussle on the floor, sleep next to each other in the sun, and he'll even bathe her face on occasion. They're just the cutest couple, and I'm worried that if she sticks around much longer that Sparta will be the one suffering from the confusion of "But, where's Sansa?" when we find her a home.

There are two big problems with Sansa, however. 1) She eats everything, which means we can't leave Sparta's food out for him because she'll gobble it up. Not only can I not afford all the extra food that she'd suck down, but it also means Sparta has to fight for his food. 2) She is desperate to eat Nimbus!!!

So far, we've tried several methods in order to keep Sansa away from or ignore Nimbus hopping about in his cage. They are never allowed to interact with each other when Nimbus is playing outside his enclosure, except in the video below.

1. Spraying water with the squirt bottle: This is my preferred disciplinary method for the cats. They, of course, hate the water and soon learn that if you don't want to get wet, don't repeat the bad behavior. However, Sansa can be as stubborn as Nimbus sometimes. This works 5 out of 10 times.
2. Cage covers: It's important to place a dark sheet around your chinchilla cage in order to give your pet a sense of security. When Sansa's around, we occasionally add an extra blanket to block her view. Still, she knows he's in there and will sneak under or around the blanket and sheet. This works 3 out of 10 times.
3. Play time: To distract Sansa, we have begun pulling out toys, especially "flyer" toys, to change her attention to something she actually can "hunt" and "attack." Depending on how active Nimbus is, this works 7 out of 10 times.
4. Less access: Now, Nimbus's cage doesn't stay in the living room all day. Instead, his cage is moved into my bedroom with the door shut where he can sleep in complete darkness, not deal with Sansa and have more peace and quiet. His cage returns to its normal spot in the living at about 6:30-7 p.m. 
5. Can they be friends, too: I'm hoping that if Sansa sees Nimbus less as food and more of a pet that plays around the house, she'll lose her appetite. Sansa, though, is just under a year old and has an unbelievable amount of energy! It's like living with a Bengal. We can play with her and play with her, and I've never seen her at the point of exhaustion. She could go for hours. Hers is not the type of personality that Sparta possesses, which means she's going to see Nimbus more as a toy. If Sansa is going to remain part of the family as I refuse to put her in a shelter, she has to learn that Nimbus is not something to bat around. 

So, now, we're slowly introducing Sansa to Nimbus outside of the cage. Here is our first attempt working with them. As you can see, I am holding Sansa not only in a harness but also with a Thundershirt. A Thundershirt is a pretty awesome product that helps with stress, fear of thunderstorms, seizures and several other types of behaviors for both cats and dogs. The heavy cloth wraps twice around the body and once around the neck, which makes a secure hugging feeling and limits movement. Do not try if with your own pets! Unless you are willing to take the chance of having an animal get injured or you know how to properly restrain a cat, you need to think about other methods for happy coexistence in the household. If anyone has any other suggestion, please, please message me!! I'd love to hear from you and get some new ideas. Honestly, it's becoming a problem and if it comes down to keeping Sansa vs. Nimbus's safety, I'm going to choose Nimbus. He was here first, this is his house, and it is easier to rehouse a cat than a chinchilla. So here goes our first attempt:

The Number 1 Rule is Hard to Follow

Chinchillas are mischevious, naughty and cunning.

And, Nimbus is the king of mischievousness, naughtiness, craftiness and wiliness. He is the child of a demon.

The known story of Nimbus's life began at a breeder's. Where he was born or how he ended up at the breeder is anyone's guess. At this breeder's, he served as a stud chinchilla, mating and mating and mating to create new litters of chinchilla pets and possibly (who knows?)... chinchilla coats! He had little interaction with any one chinchilla or people. He arrived at the rescue because the breeder's mom became ill. Unable to to even see to his chins, the breeder took them to rescues.

With this in mind, I tried to make Nimbus's transition to my home as easy as possibly... Well, note that I said tried. I was overly excited, at the same time, about this new, fluffy critter in my house. I probably overwhelmed him more than I provided a smooth transition.

Due to his background, Nimbus is not a people chinchilla. Now, most chinchillas aren't the cuddly, sweet pets we want them to be. It's just not in their nature. However, you can "tame" and "bond" with your chinchilla. One of the best suggestions I've read in order to bond is to hold your chinchilla for five consequent minutes once a day. I've tried to do this with Nimbus, but he's so fidgety that I feel like I'm squeezing him more than I'm bonding with him. Still, chinchillas will grow to learn their names and their owners in given time. Nimbus knows my voice, that when I say "Nimbus" I am speaking to him and what tone I use for disciplining.

Nimbus's first few weeks were a disaster. He chewed everything! Running after him was a constant chore and trying to get him in his cage usually ended with me out of the breath and a bruise or two on my knee from tripping over myself. Chinchillas are FAST! I had no clue what I was in for. Book covers, DVD cases, the wallpaper on my living room wall, the ethernet cable, pens, papers, iPad case, charger cords... you name it, he chewed it. His new favorite snack is my carpet. He'll graze on the stuff like a cow! I have two somewhat noticeable bald patches on my living room floor!

There's a point during the evening and nighttime play hours where you reach a breaking point, especially on a bad day.

The number one rule is "Never yell at your chinchilla." Forever Feisty Chinchilla Rescue Inc. is not only a beautiful organization but also boosts a wonderful, very informative website. The bulk of my research came from their webpages. A very helpful page is Emotional Health & Behavior. I learned more about a chinchilla here than any other website, and why not? The people in charge of this rescue have come in contact with hundreds of chinchillas since the inception of their rescue. They know how to keep them happy, how to keep them well and active and how to interact with all the different personalities present in the chinchilla species. The webpage reads, "Yes, chins are very sensitive, caring and emotional little critters. They are very curious and love to interact with their friends whether human or another chin." Thus, their number one rule is not to yell. Here comes in one of my biggest flaws: little to no patience!

One of the biggest mistakes a first time chin guardian makes is lack of patience! Showing your chin patience, having respect for how he lives and trying to see life the way he does will be one of the greatest things you can do for him. There are no words to describe how wonderful a trusting, loving relationship can be with your chinchilla. They are so sweet, affectionate, energetic and just plain silly at times. As much as we love and adore chinchillas, we are very honest to acknowledge that they are not for everyone. - Forever Feisty Chinchilla Rescue Inc.

They continue to say that yelling at a chinchilla, particularly when he's "barricaded" himself in a tight spot or is showing you aggression is only going to end in a destroyed, untrustworthy relationship for both you and him. But, one day, I just snapped.

* * * *

Back in August, I was finishing my last semester as a college undergraduate. It was a stressful time. I was caring for three pets and my two-bedroom house by myself while also attending classes and going to work. It was the first time I had ever been truly on my own, always living with roommates or my family in the past. I left a nasty relationship in April, and now, I had undergone a summer of emotional exhaustion and some physical illness as well.  By the start of classes, I was already exhausted and dead on my feet. 

Every Tuesday, I attended Advanced Creative Writing class from 6 to 9 p.m. I loved the class (it was taught by a quite popular Southern Lit author), but by the time I got home, Nimbus was bouncing and doing flips in his cage. It was exercise time, and he doesn't care if I'm sick, tired, have 2 hours of homework/work to finish or if I've eaten dinner. Of course not! He's an animal, and he needs to be cared for, even if it's at a discomfort to me. So, I let him run free and tried to relax at the same time. That rarely happens anyway, but he's especially naughty and energetic when he hasn't had 6 p.m., 7:30 p.m., and 8 p.m. play times. 

Playing on the cat tree

Off he went!! It was one of those nights where "No!" and even approaching him weren't enough to deter him from chewing something he shouldn't. Instead, he'd hold his ground and provide the standard sign of an angry, possessive chin: tail swishing like a pissed off cat and a very distinctive noise that sounds like chinchilla swear words. It's not a bark or a grunt like if he's fighting with another chin. Nor is it the rusty, rasping cluck of a stressed/defensive chinchilla. It's a grunting, muttering sound. It means, "I want what I want, and if you take it away, I'm going to #@!* *&%!! #$@%&."

Exhausted and at my breaking point, I began a complete tirade, yelling at this furry critter bounding around the living room. 

"Nimbus!! Why?!?! WHY?!?! Why do you destroy my house? Why? It's been 6 months that you've been here. Six months! And, I've tried and tried and tried to bond with you. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I've been nice to you, and I've bought you all these toys and everything. Yes, all of these toys. I keep spending money that I don't have so that you can have toys, great toys! But, no, you want to eat the walls and the books and the DVDs and the cords. Why, Nimbus? Why? What am I doing wrong? What have I ever done to you that you don't like me? Do you hate me? I've brought you into my home, which you've completely wrecked, and given you everything you could possibly want. I don't understand why you can't just stop chewing everything!!!!!!! Nimbus, why?? I just want to sit here and stare at a wall, but you keep eating everything. Fine! Just eat it! Just... I don't even care anymore. I don't know why I even bother!"

Obviously, there was more going on in my life than what started my outburst, because I then sat on the floor and started sobbing. It was just a bad night. And because of it, my relationship with Nimbus suffered. He'd didn't trust me for a few nights after that, keeping his distance and causing more mischief.

Yes, we're all going to have bad nights. Definitely more than one. Still, if you have too many bad nights without any patience, you're relationship with your pet is eventually going to be unrepairable. And then, every night will be a bad night. To help relief the stress and make the bond closer, try sitting on the floor while the chinchilla is running around. You can still watch TV or work on your laptop while keeping an eye on him, but you'll be at his level. He'll have access to you to sniff or run over you and check out what you're doing. Chinchillas are extremely inquisitive creatures and want to know the world around them, which is why chewing is a big factor. Chinchillas learn about their world through their whiskers and their teeth. When your pet nibbles on your finger, it's not because he wants to know what sauce goes with you best for dinner. He's reassuring himself that you are his owner. It's how he connects with you and nearly every object he comes into contact with. Also, pick up the house. Keep from getting up to grab a pen or other dangerous object from him that shouldn't be on the floor to begin with. Provide blockades like pillows and blankets stuffed in corners (obstacles that won't become chew toys) to keep him out of places that he doesn't belong. In this house, there are sneakers stuffed between the gap of the floor and the bottom of the oven. There is also a large construction involving three pillows, a blanket, a bag of bedding and a box to keep Nimbus from behind the couch. If it makes the house look cluttered, then you can always put these items away from friends and family members come over. The important factors are your chinchilla's safety and your positive relationship with him. It's not worth giving away your pet or suffering through a decade of miserable years just because the original plan isn't working. Try something new.  Recently, we rearranged the living room where Nimbus lives and plays (since we don't have a spare room for him to solely have). This has improved our relationship dramatically. Now, the cat toys have a box so he'll not chewing holes in the fuzzy mice's faces. There's more room for him to run around and uncluttered space for us to keep an eye on him. 

Make a goal whether it be to become closer with your chinchilla or for him to chew less household items. Then, make a plan and stick to it. If you need any ideas, post a comment or send me a message!! Nimbus and I are happy to help!

Nimbus (right) and a chinchilla birthday card!