3 things I have learned from my grand-chinchilla

Not actually Percy, but representative of the species

Terry and I have no human grandchildren, but our oldest two kids own a variety of pets that fit the bill nicely at this point in our lives.

One of those is Percy, a fluffy gray chinchilla who belongs to my daughter Elissa. Percy is, for a chinchilla, something like 1,000 years old. Elissa regularly takes him to the vet, and they have remarked there that he is the healthiest, most well-cared-for rodent they’ve encountered.

This is because she spoils him, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Unfortunately, Percy has a tumor, and there’s no real way to treat it. But he continues to live every day the same way he has lived for the past decade-and-a-half.

Doing pretty much whatever he wants.

Percy used to live with us when Elissa first got him, so I do feel a certain bond with the little guy. He has taught me many things along the way, but here are the three important ones:

(1) Everyone deserves to have an anger shelf

Percy has a cage that is, as far as I know, like the Cadillac of chinchilla cages. It is large, multi-storied, and decked out with just about everything a chinchilla could want. It includes a little slab attached to the back wall of the cage on which Percy sometimes hangs out. Elissa informs me this is his “anger shelf.” I like that idea. Each of us should have a place we can go when we’re frustrated or just plain mad at the world so we can work through whatever we’re feeling. This is an excellent concept, though I’ll admit that, to my untrained eye, angry Percy looks exactly the same as contented Percy.

(2) Everyone deserves to be loved beyond what they probably actually deserve

Whether he’s at his regular home or spending some time at Grandma and Grandpa’s (as he is for a whole week as I type this), Percy is constantly showered with love. I’m sure he enjoys this far more than he lets on, and he’s better off for it. And so is every one of us who is unconditionally loved by others. Don’t ever think this is a blessing reserved for someone else, because you should have it, too.

(3) Everyone deserves the benefits of being judged by a friend

When Percy used to live with us and his cage was in our living room, I would sometimes look over and realize he was staring at me. Just sitting there staring at me. Elissa once informed us that, when he does this, he is judging you. I like to think he’s doing it with the best of intentions, and that if he could talk, he would report his observations to me in the name of self-improvement. Criticism isn’t always a bad thing, if it’s offered lovingly and with the goal of making us better people. (Or maybe he harbors seething hatred for me. Again, his little chinchilla face always looks the same, so I could be misreading this situation by a mile.)

Pet death pool: Which one of our animals will die next?

When you're a parent, the death of a pet is no small thing.

First and foremost, you're in charge of comforting your children and helping them understand that death is natural, that Fluffy had a good life, that yes we can eventually get another kitten, etc.

Then of course there's the problem of disposing of the carcass. This isn't a bad thing with goldfish or small rodents. It's quite another matter if you're talking a St. Barnard or a horse.

So while I enjoy the mini zoo we have in our house, it never escapes my notice that one by one, these animals will all eventually die. And when they do, the responsibility for handling their corpses will fall on me as the father. This is not always the case, of course, but I would say dads handle dead animal management to a greater degree than moms do.

So I constantly keep an unofficial Animal Dead Pool going in my head. At any given time, I try to have a pretty good idea of the overall health of every pet in the house so that I can be prepared when it's time for one of them to take the Eternal Dirt Nap and I'm tasked with finding them a suitable resting place.

Right now, I would classify our pets into three general categories. Here's the breakdown:

Probably Not Dying Any Time Soon

CHARLIE (CAT)

Charlie is a Lynx Point Siamese, and thus he has a pretty slight build. But it took him maybe three weeks of living in our house to establish himself as the alpha male. Thus, he rules the roost and is rarely bothered by the other cats. Charlie does what he wants when he wants, so there's no stress in his life. His only real peril is a penchant for escaping the house and spending the night outside, but he's tough enough to protect himself, so no worries there.

SERENDIPITY (HAMSTER)

You generally don't see hamsters placed into this category because they don't live that long, maybe three years on average. But this animal, which is actually a hairless "naked" hamster, is so secluded that I forget she exists. Chloe is her owner/mother, and she does a good job keeping her fed and cared for. Serendipity will be with us a good while longer, I dare say.

A Trip to the Vet Is Probably a Good Idea

FRED & GEORGE (CATS)

I lump these two together because they're brothers and they both suffer from the constant stress of trying to avoid Charlie and Bert, a good chunk of whose lives are spent tormenting Fred and George. Stress kills, man, and I'm sure it will shorten the lifespan of these two felines. Plus Fred is demonstrably overweight, so I'm sure there's some hardening of the arteries in there for him, as well.

LUCY (GUINEA PIG)

She always looks nervous to me, so I'm thinking stress is a risk factor for her, too. Plus, she's a long-haired guinea pig, and they tend not to live as long as their shorter-haired counterparts (usually about 5 years). I don't know how old Lucy is, but I just don't see it lasting, you know? She has that dull "It's OK If I Die, Really, I Don't Mind" look in her eyes.

PERCY (CHINCHILLA)

Chinchillas live a shockingly long time, at least to me. The figures vary, but domestic chinchillas can stick around anywhere from 10 to even 20 years. I was thinking/hoping our two would last half that long, but no such luck. Anyway, given that, you'd think I would put them both into the "Probably Not Dying Any Time Soon" category. But Percy's feedings are sometimes sporadic, and I'm afraid at some point we'll just forget about giving him food even though his cage is right there in the living room and he'll die. I hope not, but I wouldn't put it past us.

Get the Shovel Ready

BERT (CAT)

Bert is huge. He's a long-haired breed, which of course makes him look even bigger than he already is. But even if you shaved him, you would still be left with a lot of cat. Elissa and Terry rescued Bert from a busy street in the middle of winter a few years ago. He still has some effects from that experience, including what we can only assume was frostbite in his paws. That, plus his excess weight, plus the fact that he moves so slowly that sometimes it seems he's already dead = don't buy any green bananas, Bert.

ANDROMEDA (CHINCHILLA)

Again, chinchillas live a good while, but Andromeda doesn't seem like she's long for this world. She has, on multiple occasions, chewed through her cage and escaped, only to be found days later wandering around the house. One of these times she's going to get out and we'll never see her again. Or at least we'll never see her alive again. We'll certainly smell her once she starts to decompose somewhere in the hidden recesses of the basement. And then of course who will get the call to go down there, scoop her up and bury her in the backyard? That's right, everybody, it'll be Good Old Dad!

Dramatis personae

When I launched this blog in December (as a continuation of the old "They Call Me Daddy" blog), it was intended for family and Facebook friends. Just a way for me to write about something other than broadband Internet, which is what I spend my days fixating on at work.

But along the way we've garnered quite a few new readers, largely as a result of being part of the News-Herald's Community Media Lab and also through the retweets and online recommendations of a few very kind regulars here. The result is that I can't just assume everyone knows who I'm talking about when I reference "Terry" or "Chris Dorazio" or "Percy."

So I thought it would make sense to run down the main characters who constantly pop up here...a sort of online scorecard for those new to our little group. To wit:

TERRY: My wife of almost 20 years. Pretty, smart and the glue that keeps my life together. Also an excellent kisser. Likes chocolate, Hallmark movies, and the color yellow. More on her later this month, as we're approaching the 26th anniversary of our first date.

ELISSA: My almost-18-year-old daughter. Smart as a whip, seemingly jaded, not a lover of children (which makes life with four younger siblings challenging, I imagine). Elissa is on the brink of selecting a college. I'm on the brink of financial collapse. These two things are in no way unrelated.

CHLOE: My 15-year-old daughter. The most unique individual I know. Not quite clinically insane, but well down that path. Chloe is very much the overachiever. I'm just starting to teach her to drive. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if Chloe is one day named president of the world.

JARED: My 6-foot-tall, 13-year-old son. The Man Beast is a good soccer and saxophone player, though he tends not to do those two things simultaneously. Like his father, a fan of Cleveland sports and the Ottawa Senators. I have set the boy up for a lifetime of disappointment. What a terrible parent I am.

MELANIE: My sweet little 11-year-old daughter. Mel is a goalkeeper in soccer. It takes a special kind of person (*cough* CRAZY *cough*) to be a goalkeeper, so I give her credit. Melanie is also a great actress. Thankfully, she hasn't yet learned to transfer that skill from the stage to her home life, but I know it's coming.

JACK: My 6-year-old son. An evil genius. I used to say it was just coincidence that we decided not to have any more kids after he was born. Now I'm not so sure. In any case, he's good for at least one belly laugh a day. The most unintentionally funny person I know.

SEAN: Elissa's boyfriend. Her intellectual equal AND a sax player. This is a good combination.

CHRIS DORAZIO: Chloe's Vietnamese-Italian boyfriend. Always referred to by both his first and last names.

FRED, GEORGE & CHARLIE: The family cats. Fred and George are brothers. They are scared of Charlie, a stray we took in a year-and-a-half ago and the definite alpha male.

PERCY: Elissa's chinchilla. He has a cage that's nicer than my house. May outlive me.

S'MORES: Melanie's guinea pig. Chloe refers to her as "Muffins" for reasons only Chloe understands.

ROGER: Chloe's female dwarf hamster. Yes, female. Don't ask.

ALLIE: The gecko that started as Jared's pet but was recently hijacked by Elissa. Jared appears to be fine with this.

GINEVRA: Elissa's rat. By now I assume you are not at all surprised that we have a rat.


Life is a crazy whirl of people, pets and activities at our house, and these are the people/animals who make it happen. They should all be proud.

Eight animals, plenty of poo

The other day I was trying to figure out whether I've cleaned up more animal poop or human poop in our house over the years. Ultimately I decided it was probably animal poop, but only by a narrow margin.

We have eight pets among our seven family members. This is in part because of the tradition whereby each of the kids gets a pet when they turn seven. The idea is to teach responsibility and all of that, and to some extent it works.

Still, I feel like I end up doing more than my share of fecal-related sanitation management, mostly in the form of cat waste. But I have to say, the kids do a halfway decent job of taking care of their animals. It could be a lot worse.

(NOTE: This is like the third time in three weeks I've referred to the fact that I clean the cat litter boxes. Why am I obsessed with this? I guess because it's a part of my daily life, but I never really think about it until I sit down to write).

I grew up in a dog house, with the extra-special bonus that I never had to clean up the doggy bombs in the backyard (my mom spoiled me, what can I say?) So to me, dogs were fun and virtually maintenance-free. Terry is and always has been a cat person, and from the time we were married, we've always had cats. I don't mind cats. I actually like the ones we have. But if I could somehow get the same sort of poo-free deal I had circa 1981 with dogs, I'd go out and get one in a minute.

Here's a rundown of our zoo:

CATS (3): Fred, George, Charlie
Fred and George are brothers. Very pretty snow-white cats. We refer to Fred as "Fat Fred," since he's noticeably larger than his brother and that's about the only way to tell them apart. Fred was the alpha male until Charlie came along 15 months ago. Charlie was a stray and a kitten, two factors that immediately endeared him to the women in my house. Terry found him in the backyard. Now he dominates everything and Fred hates him. George, meanwhile, is mentally handicapped. Seriously. And he's sort of creepy, too. But he tries.

CHINCHILLA (1): Percy
Chincillas are cool. They're big fluffy balls of....well, fluff. Percy is very friendly. He lives in a big cage in the living room and will always park himself next to the bars if he senses that you're willing to reach in and pet him. Elissa, his owner, says he's an attack chinchilla. As far as I can tell, the only thing he attacks are his yogurt treats.

RAT (1): Ginevra Elizabeth
If you're a Harry Potter fan, you'll notice that all of our pet names so far are taken from the Weasley children. It seemed like a good idea at the time...Anyway, yes, we have a rat. And believe it or not, she's about the most lovable thing you'll ever see. Just a nice little creature, though no amount of "nice" can overcome the fact that she's a rat and has that rat tail. That's creepy even for those who love her. Ginevra belongs to Elissa, who apparently has a thing for strange pets.

GUINEA PIG (1): S'mores (aka, Muffins)
This one is Melanie's. Mel named her S'mores, but her roomate, Chloe, insists that the rodent is named "Muffins," which Chloe believes is a better name. I tell Chloe she can't randomly rename her sister's pet, but as you might imagine if you know Chloe, this in no way deters her. Actually, I think Mel and I may be the only ones who like the name "S'mores" better. Poor Mel.

ROBO DWARF (1): Roger
Speaking of Chloe, she's the proud owner of Roger, a female robo dwarf hamster. That sentence begs two questions: (1) Why is a girl hamster named Roger? (ANSWER: Because Chloe is Chloe); (2) What's a robo dwarf hamster? (ANSWER: I don't know. Here's some Wikipedia help.)  Roger is small. So small, in fact, that I don't even notice her in her tiny cage when I enter the girls' bedroom. Therefore I forget Roger exists. I'll bet it has been a good month or so since I've seen Roger.

LEOPARD GECKO (LIZARD) (1): Allie
The coolest thing about Allie is that she eats crickets. Live ones. Terry goes out and buys two dozen of them at a time. She or Jared -- technically Allie is Jared's -- will dump a bunch into Allie's cage, prompting Allie to go into Hunting Mode. Whenever a cricket moves, Allie creeps over to it, sizes it up, and strikes. She catches the cricket in her mouth and casually chews it, which makes the whole thing a fun spectator sport while undoubtedly being unpleasant for the crickets.

I just learned that Elissa has staged an intervention and has taken custody of Allie away from Jared. I don't believe Jared knows this yet. Elissa says Jared isn't taking care of Allie, but she is graciously giving her brother visitation rights. It's going to be interesting when Jared finds this all out. Given that his powers of observation rival those of his father, I predict this will happen sometime in 2015.