January 24, 2019 | Sara Perosa
My weekly ritual of waking up at 5 am in a panic happened this morning.
I own two chinchillas
This time my two chinchillas were four chinchillas. Two were black like Loki and two white like Edgar. I could not identify which one was Edgar or Loki because the additional chinchillas looked like their twins. I put them in my bathroom to have some play time. One of the white ones jumped into the tub and squealed. Concerned, I opened the tub to find two massive white rabbits in there. The squealing chinchilla, I assumed was Edgar, was almost twice his size. His poor swollen body was aching and I quickly picked him up and brought him to the sink where I rubbed some water on him. If you know anything about chinchillas, they are never supposed to get wet. Thankfully, the water calmed his swelling.
My pets like their own space
While holding the white chinchilla, I called Brandon to take the other three chinchillas back to their cages so they could be safe. Quickly, he removed them from the room. When I left the bathroom with Edgar in my hands, I approached a set up of giant glass tanks full of various bugs. I never saw these tanks before. Upon closer examination, I saw the two black chinchillas together in a tank with lizard-like bugs and the white chinchilla in a larger tank with a variety of bugs. I was horrified. “Take them out immediately!”, I screamed. Brandon looked to me relaxed, “They will be fine.” I started hyperventilating, concerned for my babies and too afraid to open the tank and save them.
Chinchillas are natural prey
This is when I woke up. Regrettably, I dream about my chinchillas frequently. The dreams are similar. They often involve other animals and my chinchillas’ inability to handle being in the same space as other animals. I should inform you that my chinchillas are caged animals in an eighth-floor apartment with no other pets or access to wild animals. How on earth will I handle having human babies?