Um... What?

We think it was some sort of stroke. Or a seizure. I didn't see the transition. I only saw that suddenly she wasn't bouncing about, she'd lost all use of her shoulders...and was pushing along the ground with her back feet.

12 hours and quite a few phone calls later, the x-ray showed that her shoulder bone had been worn away. Not broken, but broken down. I asked if it was a vitamin deficiency. Some kind of chinchilla osteoporosis. Not likely, they said. It was more likely cancer, and likely had spread to her brain which explained her lack of balance and awkward posture.

I burst into tears in the vet's office and carried her into the waiting room. It wasn't what I'd planned to deal with this weekend. I was in denial, but hurried straight to bargaining. I requested pain meds and an antibiotic. Give her a day or two, I said. Let's see how she does. A kind woman in the waiting room offered me a hug as I stood sobbing at the checkout desk. She let me talk about her and all her nifty exotic qualities. She let me offer advice about her needy cat (get two, trust me, I said). She was lovely and kind.

After a few days of hand-feeding her with a syringe it seemed clear to me that she was still in a lot of pain.  And not only was she blind as a bat and using her whiskers to feel along the wall as she awkwardly re-learned to hobble on shortened front legs (imagine your elbows pinned to your sides).  I posted to facebook and texted friends that I was putting her down Monday afternoon.  We spent a quiet hour together, her muzzle under my chin, just sitting, while adoring friends and fans responded with tributes and condolences. 

When I got to the vet, I was ready.  I had my crying towel.  I waited for the waiting room to be mostly empty.  It was for the best.  The vet entered and examined her, and as this was a different vet than the emergency doctor who'd seen her in Danvers, asked the history of her condition.  Chou didn't complain, didn't make a sound.  The vet put her on the ground to see how she walked...

And Chou put on a SHOW.

I was dumbfounded.  The vet understood that it was still not great, but it admittedly was the best I'd seen her, and I admitted it was a huge improvement.  She explored with her whiskers and tracked the wall, sagging into a heap every 20 seconds or so. 

"Let's give her a few more days," said the vet.
"... really?"  I wasn't prepared for her death on Saturday, and now I wasn't prepared for her to live through dinner.
"I want to look at the x-ray the other office took on Saturday.  Let's discuss then."
"...um...ok."

In a state of shock I paid the bill to the surprised and sympathetic attendants, and went back to the car with my living, breathing chinchilla.  I called Eliza.

"How are you doing??  We drank a toast," she said.
"The vet said no."
"Um.  What?"
"The fucking vet won't kill my chinchilla."  I was being fasicious, of course.  I was just beside myself.
"What happened?"
I explained.
"So what you're saying is that your chinchilla has pulled another fast one on you."
"Apparently so.  You know, I'm actually annoyed."
"She's outsmarted the human yet again!"
"No shit.  I need a drink."
"Aww, I'm sorry!!"
"You just said you're sorry my pet's not dead."
"You know what I mean!!"
"Yeah, this just has become an absurd situation."

Jeff had similar commentary.  He thought it was hilarious.

And it is.  It is hilarious.  Not because she's hurt, but because such a small creature has once again turned my whole world upside down, caused public embarrassment, and taken no prisoners.  If she were human she'd be leading a revolution.

One follow up note:  Good reader, you have become privy to private information.  This doesn't leave this blog page.  Too many people have posted wonderful and caring sentiments for my sweet Chou for me to disturb the outpouring of goodwill.  How can I?  She was loved by so many.  But you can be sure, I'm not going to post anything more about the condition of my chinchilla into the public forum until she is actually IN THE GROUND.  And even then, I don't think we'll be 100% sure she's gone.

She's not dead yet.