As far as friends go, nothing compares to clearing up your best friends droppings after hanging out together.
I’m kidding. But this is the unfortunate reality when your best friend is a Chinchilla.
Gigglemouse is a complex creature, displaying nothing but affection and love whilst he remains confined in his cage, then disdain and contempt once bouncing around during play time. He makes it his mission to bite every surface (including me) and to hide in the dirtiest spots, despite his ongoing respiratory problems. But we make it work. Still I’m sometimes a bit hurt when I give him his sand bath afterwards and he bathes like there’s no tomorrow; like I’m a disgusting stain to be washed off or something…
I’ve had the little monster for nearly 7 years, and we’ve had some good times. Like the time he bit wood chips off the textured wallpaper in the house we were staying in, and the time he dragged his teeth (like nails down a blackboard) down my parents mahogany bed frame, completely removing the varnish. I spent a good half an hour disguising the crime using a well chosen eye brow pencil. Sorry dad! Then there was the time he escaped under my bed and it took me and Scott (fiancé) nearly an hour to get him out, which he thought was hysterical. However, probably my favourite memory was the time he got his head stuck in a loo roll tube and we had to cut him out.
Seriously though, we love each-other very much. He’s always pleased to see me. Many a time he’s listened to me talk about my day/ rant about things that have upset me, and I’ve compensated him for his troubles in peanuts. He’s very excited and vocal when we have a chat as long as I keep the peanuts coming. He’s sure to inform me if he’s not suitably compensated, by noisily chewing the shells until a fresh one is supplied. Then when we’re done talking he goes home to his teddy bear wife Tinkerbell, until he throws her out of bed in a fit of peanut induced rage.