Apparently Scooter wants his cage to be slovenly. That's just fine. Harumph.

I was going to clean it out tonight, which meant I was going to let Scooter run around the apartment. So around 8 I opened the cage door and waited for him to notice and hop out. Except he was asleep. I puttered around and checked my email and so on, and started calling to him, and eventually he hopped out of his plastic house...and then sat down on one of the shelves and went back to sleep.

I think some of the weekend frivolity may have interfered with his usual schedule.So now that it's almost 11 and he's shown no sign of waking up, I've closed the cage door up again. I could clean "around" him, or just make him get out of the cage, but at this point I'm not feeling terribly energetic either.

The annoying part is that I was kind of in the mood to curl up on the couch and read until I fall asleep tonight; I end up crashing on the couch once or twice a week because it's soooo cozy. But I'm sure that if I do, Scooter will wake up around the time that I drift off, and the wheel will be extra-squeaky just to irritate me.

So I'll just sleep in my bed, then. That's not really so bad. I'm just lashing out because I really should have cleaned the cage out yesterday.

Sorry Scooter updates have been rare lately, but there haven't been many new developments. But today...

First, I got more supplies at the pet story, and as is traditional, got some goodies to spoil Scooter with. This time I got a box of "Chinchilla Cocktail," which sounds more exotic (or more gross, depending on your interpretation) than it is. It's just dried berries and some kind of mysterious bright green food product. I gave Scooter one of the berries, and he loved it, and it was a whole new entertaining viewing experience. He kept taking a bite, then wiping his mouth with his paws. I don't know if it's sticky or something, but apparently something about it makes him need to clean his whiskers constantly. A couple of times he dropped the berry and stuck a paw up into his mouth in an awkward way. I assume bits of fruit were getting stuck in his gums or on the roof of his mouth or something but how cool is it that he has fingers to scrape it out? And, of course, it's terribly cute.

Then I engaged in a long-overdue bout of cleaning, which meant that I could finally let Scooter out to roam free-ish. I also planned ahead and stuck old blankets around the sides of the chair-bed, in order to keep him from spending the whole time hiding under the chair when he should be running around like a maniac for my entertainment. That worked well, except that I also took the opportunity to clean his cage. Its hard to concentrate on shovelling bedding out of a cage when there's a rodent that insists on running across your feet. Once I'd cleaned the cage out and could settle down to watch the fun, things went much more smoothly. He did a lot of hopping (over the bag of trash from cleaning, onto chairs, etc.).

And then, he dutifully hopped back into his cage after he'd had enough fun. I got a little bit concerned when he tried to hop up onto a big stick that's in his cage, and missed it. Twice. Then I realized that -- well, this takes a little background. I have a few big sticks that I wedge into the cage in various ways, so that he can climb onto them. And I'd taken them out to clean the cage, and then replaced them. So after a few minutes, I'd realized that when I put this particular one back, I'd wedged it in slightly higher than it used to be, and that's why he'd been missing it when he tried to jump up to perch. So I felt much better, and rearranged the stick so it was at the correct height. I'm trying to decide whether the fact that Scooter assumed the stick was where it always had been indicates intelligence, or if the fact that he just jumped without looking means he's a moron. I think I'll split the difference and add this to the evidence that chins' eyesight isn't all that good.

I've ended up sleeping on the chairbed a lot this week. I start reading and then my eyes get heavy and I know that if I get up and walk down the hall and go to bed, that activity will wake me up, so I just pull up a blanket and sleep where I am. The point is that this has allowed me to notice a few things about Scooter's nocturnal habits. At least the ones noisy enough to wake me up. For instance, he doesn't gnaw on the bars (which is good) but he does gnaw on the little clippy things that hold the cage together. Which is bad, for several reasons. One being, chins really shouldn't eat plastic. The other being, this is why the top of the cage didn't have any clips and would slide around and allow him to escape.

I'm going to assume that he's not smart enough to know that. But it is odd that he goes through the effort of climbing up on top of his food bowl and sticking his snout through the bars so that he can nibble at the clips. Especially when his cage is full of nice things to chew, ranging from wood to seeds to hay to some sort of stone-thing that he gnaws on sometimes. So I don't know what to think. I moved the clips so that they are harder to reach, but a couple of times during the night I'd hear him gnawing at something that sounded suspicously metallic. Which I guess means that he does gnaw at the bars, but he's still doing it at the spot where the clip used to be, so the evidence is inconclusive. When I'd hear this noise, I'd kick my food against the cage, which discouraged him, but it's still bad, and also a bit peculiar.

The other thing I learned is even odder. I think. Although I've known cats who do the same thing. The aforementioned chewing stone is basically a one inch cube. Usually I put it up on the top level, by his food bowl. Lately I've noticed that it keeps ending up on the bottom level. I figured Scooter was just knocking it off of the shelf in all his crazy scampering.

Except early this morning I was awakened by an odd rattling noise. The sound of a small rodent rolling a stone block over a plastic shelf, in fact, which is a hard sound to describe. But I know that's what it was, because I sat up in time to watch as Scooter pushed the block down the ramp between two shelves. It made an exciting rattling noise and then banged into the wall of the cage. He hopped down and rolled it around on that shelf for a minute or so before getting bored. As I said, I've seen cats that like to test the gravity, but it's still kind of wacky to watch. Especially when it's a block, not a ball that would roll easily. (Okay, it's a block that's been chewed at, so it's not too hard to get it rolling, but you do have to give it some effort.)

Yes, it has occurred to me that he's trying to use the block as a battering ram to bust through the wall of the cage. That's just silly. Which doesn't mean I've completely discounted the possibility.

I may have to rename Scooter, "Houdini." Last night he got out again. I was online when I heard an odd noise. The sound of little rodent-feet on the carpet. So I went and looked at the cage. Again, the lid of the cage was slightly askew, but it wasn't even an inch. It was a teeny little gap. I just stared at the cage for a few minutes, looking on all the levels to make sure Scooter really wasn't in there. He really, really wasn't. I have no idea how he did it. Maybe it was angled so that he could push it up. But he's so tiny -- how much force could he muster? I'm bewildered by the whole thing, and I think this is further support to my theory that he's a a robot.

Anyway, I've re-attached the little plastic hinges so presumably he won't be able to get out again... or if he can, I've got definite proof that he's got superpowers of some kind.

I forgot to mention this. Sunday evening I fell asleep in the living room for a while (I'd been up late and gotten up early for brunch). I was curled up in my chair, which is more like a loveseat -- that is vaugely relevant, honest. Anyway, my head was towards the table that Scooter's cage is on. I woke up blearily and listened to him running around, and vaguely thought that he sounded like he was closer than usual. I put that down to the fact that it was dark and quiet and didn't really think it meant anything. Until the sound moved around me in a way it shouldn't, and then I saw something move on the table at the other side of the chair. Then I turned the light on and realized he'd sounded closer because he'd been running along the arm of the chair, right by my head.

I'd put him back in the cage after my family left, but the cage "lid" has lost the little plastic hinges that hold it on, so I just balance it on top. Only I'd put it slightly askew so it wouldn't accidentally fall into the cage. And I'd turned it far enough that, apparently, there was a gap in the lid big enough for a determined chinchilla to squeeze through. The little scamp. I was pretty impressed, though; the gap really was small -- I don't think it was two inches at the widest point. I know he's mostly fur, but he still looks like he's wider than that.

I let him run around since he'd done such an impressive job of escaping. I'm glad he made enough noise to wake me up (I'm sure him jumping onto the chair was what first woke me). And I'm even more glad he didn't hop onto my head -- having a rodent land on you seems like a very unpleasant way to wake up, no matter how cute the rodent in question is.

My family came over to visit on Sunday. We'd gotten together for brunch and then came to my place so I could show off all the recent home improvements. And so they could see Scooter in his unnatural habitat (I'd taken him with me to my mom's once right after I'd gotten him).

He was so good! He was awake, even though it was early afternoon, and puttered around in his cage for a bit. Then I opened the door and he eventually wandered out and started running around the place as usual. My mom was impressed that he didn't just cower under a chair in fright at all the visitors; I guess he has been getting more accustomed to other people. Yeay. And to think, a month or two ago (yikes, has it been that long?) he'd jump if anyone moved near him. This time he was sitting on the floor next to my brother's foot, compeltely unafraid.

Eventually I scooped him up so that everyone could pet him, and he even put up with that pretty well. Naturally I gave him a dust bath as a reward -- I wonder if he's started making the connection that if he doesn't struggle to get away, after a few minutes he'll get a reward.

Scooter got to run around for a while again this evening. For some reason, he was particularly keen on finding things to chew on. I finally learned that flapping a book at him made enough noise to scare him away from the bookshelves, but he kept on coming back, trying to eat my paperbacks.

But here's the highlight. I have a set of these... uh... well, they're like Russian nesting dolls, the kind where you open one and there's a smaller one inside, and so on and so on. I vaguely recall a rather eerie Sesame Street short that featured a set opening and closing by itself, through the miracle of stop-motion. Anyway, the set I have is of Sherlock Holmes characters. Shut up. It's neat. They sit, un-nested, on one of the bottom shelves of a bookcase, guarding the various Sherlock Holmes books I have. Except they're wooden. So Scooter found them. And he likes to gnaw. I looked up, and he was bounding across the room, carrying the Hound of the Baskervilles in his mouth. There's something you don't see every day.

The Hound of the Baskervilles is actually the smallest doll, which I guess is why he grabbed it. But the coolest part was that it was still a bit large for him to carry, so... I only saw it for a split second before I automatically yelled at him, at which point he dropped the Hound and scampered away. But I think he was hopping across the room on his hind legs, so that he could use his hands to help carry his prize. I didn't know he could do that! So then I wished I hadn't shouted at him, because I want to see him run around on his hind legs some more. Like a little Rory Calhoun...

This'll be quick, because it's late.

I did a massive amount of housecleaning last weekend, and when I was done, Scooter got to run around the living room again. So I could clean his cage. The twist was that I let him frolic early in the afternoon. So then he was awake, and I think I inadvertently screwed up his internal clock.

See, before then, he'd be asleep when I came home from work, and then as the evening wore on he'd start hopping around, I'd give him food, he'd run in his wheel or I'd let him out to hide under the furniture, and then I don't know what he did, because I went to bed.

Since the weekend, he's still asleep when I come home. And he's asleep through the evening, and he starts waking up when I give him more hay and food pellets. Even then, he's still pretty lethargic. After that, I don't know what happens, because then I go to bed. I assume this means that he's running around in his cute way either later at night, or during the day when I'm gone. Maybe I should leave the curtains open a bit more, so that the daylight helps reset his clock.

Poor thing. I've screwed up his sense of time. Also, I miss seeing him run around in his cage, snapping his head up when I make any noise. I'm not used to having him not move at all for hours -- he naps sometimes, but it's weird to see him totally dead to the world for an hour at a time. Until I remembered his weekend excursion, I was worried that he was sick or something.

Scooter's hiding under the chairbed as I write. I set him free to roam the place while I cleaned out his cage. I have a new rug, which is worth mentioning because when Scooter runs across it, he makes an amazing amount of noise for a teeny rodent. It's sorta like drumming your fingers on a table. He also explored the new bookcases a bit; I'd left out the footstool I used to set up all my toys along the top of the bookcases, so he hopped onto it, then onto the second shelf of one of them. And then I had to yell at him for trying to eat my books.

I think I've learned how to make chinchilla noises. Or noises that are close enough to confuse him, which is, after all, the goal. I sorta suck on my teeth, which won't convey anything useful to you, but that's the only way I can describe it, and he sits up and looks around.

I wish he'd come out from under the chairbed. He has a habit of sitting under there for a while, and then making his "I'm being devoured by a horrible monster!" shrieks. I don't know why. But to get him out I have to lift all the cushions off and open the bed, and it's a pain. Especially since it's his own silly fault, and I don't know what he's finding other there that scares him in the first place, much less why he keeps going back. Stupid rodent.

But cute.

So all week I've been sleeping really strange hours. Strange even for me. I can't blame Daylight Savings for it, either. Last night I fell asleep on my beloved chairbed around 8:30, and woke up around 5. Which is longer than I've slept in days and days, but the waking up at 3 or 4 has been going on all week, if that gives you any idea. Point is, Scooter has not been getting enough attention lately, since I've been dozing instead of playing with him.

All of this should be filed under, "Why Strega doesn't have a dog." It's so nice to know that, at times like this, I can just throw some more food in the bowl and Scooter can take care of himself.

But this morning I cleaned out his cage, because it really needed it. And Scooter is so smart! I used to put him in an old cat carrier when I cleaned out the cage, so that he wouldn't be in the way, and sometimes I just let him run around the apartment. But now, as soon as I start shovelling the bedding out of the bottom of the cage, Scooter hops up to a shelf out of the way and just watches. He's such a good boy. I gave him a dust bath and a raisin as a reward.

I also have been meaning to mention... I have let him out to run around since the last March entry, and he once again managed to get back into his cage when he was tired of scampering around like a maniac. I already said that he was smart, right? But he's so smart! Y'know, bearing in mind that his brain is the size of a cherry tomato. Tonight I'm going to do some cleaning so that he can frolic again. The strange hours mean that my living room is a bit untidy, with books and dishes left in random piles on the floor. This is another reason why a chin is a good pet for me: extra motivation to keep the place clean!

Oh yeah, and it's finally spring! Which lasts around a week in the D.C. area, but I want to enjoy it while I can. So (prior to collapsing) I've been leaving the screen door open to let some fresh air in. I keep hoping Scooter will wander out and notice the squirrels that are always running around outside. 'Cause, well, they're related and all. And because they're small enough that they might just make him curious instead of terrified. I don't know, it just seemed like it'd be interesting to see his reaction. Unfortunately, I think that anything outside is too far away for him to notice -- I can't find any information about chinchilla eyesight, but it doesn't seem to be very good. Maybe that explains the not-blinking thing. Yes, that still troubles me.