When people ask me to describe a chinchilla, the best response I have to sum up this crazy little creature is that it’s like a live-action Disney animated fluffy forest thing.
In 2008, I’d just moved from 425 square feet in L.A. to 1,260 square feet in Denver, where I was online opinion editor at the Rocky Mountain News. So I went down to the animal shelter — the Dumb Friends League — to add perhaps a guinea pig (I didn’t add the caucus until moving to D.C.). The staff steered me toward a chinchilla after I’d rattled off some nerdy factoids about their origin and care — I’d always been curious about them, but being close to the coast in L.A. I had no air conditioning other than the Pacific, which means a keep-it-68-degrees creature was out of the question.
The chinchilla had been purchased at a PetSmart and then turned into the shelter by the family. This wasn’t surprising as they’re not kids’ pets: they’re exceptionally soft and cuddly but don’t like to be cuddled, they’re strong and amazing jumpers but have a delicate bone structure that means you can’t squeeze or drop them, and they’re up at night. The shelter staff took us into one of those “get acquainted” rooms, and let the chinchilla out of the carrier. She began zipping circles around the room, ricocheting off walls and making everyone dizzy trying to catch her. I finally cornered the chinchilla under a table with the help of another staffer, and reached out to gently pet her nose. After acting zen for a few moments, she leaped between us but I caught her against my shoulder and held her there. She came home with me. I named her Chinderella because she was clearly a total diva.
And the chinchilla adventure began. First thing I learned is they’re wonderfully clean pets with no smell, droppings the size of hamster poo, and they can’t wait for a dust bath (it’s all good if you don’t mind sweeping up a bit of ash — off counters, baseboards, everything). They need regular playtime outside of the cage and lots of things to chew on, like mega willow sticks from the pet store (I’m wary of grabbing any outside sticks that might have pesticides on them). The temperature in my casa is always 68 degrees — they can’t sweat and can easily overheat. In case she gets too warm, there’s a granite slab for her to chill on, though recently she dragged a small throw into the cage and has made a nest of sorts out of that. They don’t get fleas because of the fur density, and you can’t get them wet (yep, like Gremlins) because the fur can mold.
If the chinchilla doesn’t have a little friend — and this one is way too dominant to throw another one in there — they bond to their human. When I let her out of the cage to run around, she first jumps up on my shoulder and hangs there a bit while I pet her. If I sit on the floor during playtime, she climbs on me like a jungle gym. If she wants me to get down lower, she’ll stand on her hind feet and tap me on the leg. She knows the drill of when to get back in her cage (and occasionally avoids it for an extra hour or so, to my frustration). The ultimate sign of trust is when she touches her nose to mine.
For rodent-lovers, chinchillas are especially fantastic because of their 15-20-year lifespan. Unlike Syrian hamsters, though, they’re not for beginners. They have extremely delicate digestive systems that can’t tolerate many of the fruity-pebble feed mixes sold; I’ve found only one food, Mazuri, to be good. She gets hay every day, but it better be orchard grass; if I give her timothy hay, she takes a bite, stares at me, and throws it to the side. Treats are limited to a few bits of dried fruit — papaya being especially good for their digestive health — per week. They have natural defense systems: Chinchillas can detach that squirrel-like tail at will, though it won’t regrow and if you’re the one to pull the tail you won’t get trusted again. They can detach a clump of fur at will if it’s being grabbed. If she hears something strange with her human-grade hearing at night, she yelps like a monkey (THAT didn’t startle me the first time).
They have amazing personalities and intelligence. Mine loves to watch TV, but hates commercial interruptions. She’ll dance around the guinea pigs’ cage and tease them. When I come up and scratch behind her ears, she stands up and both ears slowly drop to the side by 90 degrees.
Here, she checks to make sure my slipper isn’t a relative.
In Denver, she was a bit of a celebrity. When the Rocky decided not to endorse a presidential candidate in 2008, we joked about a Chinchilla for President campaign around the newsroom: Hope and Hay. So even though her official name is Chinderella, I began calling her Chinchilla — as in The One, The Ultimate chinchilla. When the Rocky was going to close and I accepted a job at The Hill in D.C., I was really worried about the road trip as I read online about how stressful moving can be on chinchillas. No worries about the heat as it was the end of January — and I had to reroute through the south because of an ice storm — but for proper ventilation I bought her a guinea pig starter cage that would fit nicely on the back seat. And she was the best traveler of all, getting to stretch with a bit of playtime in hotel bathrooms at night.
Here, she saw the hotel mirror and tried to see her reflection.
A chinchilla, by the way, guarantees friendly entry into most hotels — at one in Mississippi, the desk clerk wanted to carry Chinchilla’s cage to the room. After I arrived in D.C., I crashed at a Hilton and ordered room service. The waiter saw the cage on the sofa, though she was in her hidey-house at the time, and asked, “What is that, a rabbit?” When I told him it was a chinchilla, he beamed ear-to-ear and exclaimed, “That’s my country!”
“Peru?” I responded. “Yes!” he said happily.
“So you know each other then,” I said.
“Yes, we’re old friends!” the waiter responded. I jotted a good tip onto the room service bill. It’s all about Chinchilla.
She’s settled nicely into earning her keep:
I have no doubt that, if left to her own devices, Chinchilla would embark on a campaign of total world domination. I only half-joke that each year at Halloween she’s the rabbit in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. But she’s also taught me a thing or two, besides patience when she schemes to avoid ending playtime: I won’t buy fur now, knowing that ranchers break the necks of these little creatures or electrocute them to put 100 pelts into a full-length coat (they’re now rare in the wild after decades of hunting, as well). I’d love to know what God was thinking when He brilliantly created these funny little Andes mountain dwellers with the back feet of a rabbit, the tail of a squirrel, the whiskers of a cat, tiny little hands, lots of love, and a big bundle of attitude.
All I know is it takes a chinchilla owner to really get the Vegas tourism board Chinchilli Day commercial.
My mom has one (she works at Petsmart, so she got hers when someone wanted to return it and couldn’t). Bella is adorable. Softest thing I have ever felt.
In your discussion of defenses, you forgot the projectile peeing. Hysterical when you are not the target. (she doesn’t care for my brother much)
I miss my chinnies. Watch for them not chewing. Those ingrown teeth can be a killer.
Cute. Doubt I could get one, Sparky would go after it.
What a great chinchilla primer. Your princess sounds darling, if a bit high maintenance.
We used to have a fox terrier when we were kids, and over the years I missed the fun having a pet gives. Just days ago was talking to my better half about getting one, but our eldest son is only 3 and the twins are 4 months old so at this moment it is not the time.
Still Chinderella brought a smile to my face; you should flag the post under “cutie allert”.
We’ve had a bunch of bunnies, which make remarkable indoor pets if one is willing to potty train them…which is also easy. I’d love to have a chinchilla! We now have two bunnies, brought them from Germany with us when we retired, and they love living over here. They are unlike bunnies here in the US. Everyone asks what they are. One is like a little lion and the other is truly a mutt, but the cutest thing! Our “lion” is so well potty trained that when playing outside, he runs back into the porch and onto his potty when he has to go. Now, that is being potty-trained! Animals make very different kinds of pets, and they all have personalities like you would not believe! Even our fish! Some loved to be chased in the tank and they all loved to watch the computer screen when we were watching a movie! God gave them all characteristics we can enjoy. I cannot imagine life without a pet. Being that our kids are all raised, a pet makes very good company!
“Chinchilla for President”? Now THERE’s a brokered convention I can get behind!
She’s native-born, right?
Teh kewtness! Aggggh, the kewtness!
*SPLORT* (head asplosion)
Nice article!
Thank you for the entertaining read! I really enjoyed it, but as a fellow chinchilla lover, there are a few things I wanted to mention so that your little Chinderella has a long, healthy and happy life with you.
Chins really shouldn’t have fruits or veggies of any kind because of that sensitive digestive system that you mentioned. Safe treat alternatives are rosehips, a single cheerio, half a cube of plain shredded wheat, or a pinch of old fashioned oats. If you train them properly, you can even get them to believe that sticks are treats as well. Cottonwood, kiwi and cholla logs are huge favorites among my four. Most chins love apple wood too, but that seems to be hit or miss with my guys. Pretty much everything from pet stores is deemed unacceptable in my casa, and they’ve even gone so far as to throw their wood at me. At this point, I buy most of my chinchilla supplies from private sellers across the world who love chins as much as we do. They have pesticide-free wood that they bake prior to shipping. I’ve been feeding it for years and would be happy to provide you with supplier links if that sounds like something you’d be interested in.
The tails of chins don’t break off the way iguana or chameleon tails do. You could certainly break her tail, just as you could break a dog or a cat tail, but they can’t detach it at will the way that you stated in your article. When grooming chins for show, breeders actually hold their chins by the base of the tail so that they don’t get away. Can you imagine what a bloody mess chinchilla shows would be if tails just snapped off left and right? How awful!
Chins aren’t gremlins and actually can get wet. Yes, fur fungus can certainly happen, which is why you should dry them off quickly, but getting wet doesn’t guarantee that you’ll have a fungus problem. Kits are born soaking wet, just like other mammals…think about it. You certainly shouldn’t allow your chin to bathe in anything but dust, but a little accidental water isn’t a fungal sentence. I think high humidity levels would be a larger culprit in that department, especially when coupled with poor living conditions.
I’m concerned that the Orchard Grass won’t wear down Chinderella’s teeth over time. It’s just not a hardy enough hay, especially since chinchilla teeth grow 1-3+ mm each week. My guys have never rejected Oxbow timothy hay, though I recently switched to KMS Hayloft, which they seem to love as well. I feed orchard grass and oat hay (both Oxbow), but it’s mixed in or alternated with the Timothy. Any Kaytee product will be hurled at me in anger if I even attempt to offer them such a thing. It’s comical, but a total waste of money.
As for pellets, I ran into problems with Mazuri early on (loose stools), so I switched to Oxbow Chinchilla Deluxe and haven’t looked back since. From what I’ve read, Tradition is another good one, but if Mazuri’s working well for you, I’d definitely stick with it.
I got my first chin, Friskers, when I was too young to understand how to properly care for him and suffered from a guilty conscience once I reached the age of reason. I had iguanas for 10 years before getting back into chins, at which point I decided to breed for the experience. Like most people, I made a lot of mistakes, so right before my little Maia delivered her three kits, my research efforts led me to the mecca of reputable breeders in the form of a discussion forum. All of the information provided in this “comment” came from that forum, and from the mouths of people with hundreds of chinchillas, if you can imagine such a thing. My logic is that they’ve made their lifestyle breeding to show standards to enhance the species and breed out genetic defects, so they must know what they’re talking about.
My goal here is simply to share the information that I’ve learned throughout my chinchilla journey. I don’t mean to insult you in any way, shape or form and I do apologize if that’s how this comes across. As I mentioned initially, I genuinely enjoyed your article and wish you and Chinderella a healthy and vibrant life together!
Kind regards,
*Laurie*