Once we arrived at the vet, she told us how Ethel's cecum was really backed up and her back teeth had also become incredibly overgrown. She told us that we could try to give her a catheter to get fluids back in her system, along with extensive surgeries, but from what she could tell, even if we went through with the $2,000+ procedures, Ethel would only have a small chance (15% if that) to actually make it through.
We sat in the room with Ethel Funk (named after our favorite lunchlady from college) for an hour trying to decide what to do and ended up ultimately deciding to euthanize her because it was apparent how much pain she would have to go through and sadly, we didn't have the funds and would've had to charge a credit card (which makes me feel like an irresponsible pet mama). It broke my heart because she is not even 4-years-old and the average chinchilla lifespan is 15+ years. I feel like a terrible pet owner and like I should have seen signs, but whenever we fed her hay and pellets she would always snarf them down.
When the vet gave her the vaccine, we were told it would take just about two minutes to take affect. They left us in the room with her, where she finally took her last breath after over 20 minutes. It was torture waiting for her final exhale and I couldn't help but feel guilty, like there was something I could've done and that maybe she would've pulled through it. I know people look at me like I'm crazy when I say I have pet chinchillas, but they are really great pets and have a lot more personality than you'd think. She would always do this little sassy nose grab when she was getting snarky and she did it a few times while we were waiting for her to pass. It totally made me turn into a blubbery mess.
When we got home, I looked at their cage and saw Maude (our other chin) just staring me like, "what the eff did you do with my sistah from another mistah?" Insert me crying big dragon tears here _____. We opted to get Ethel cremated since we don't exactly have a yard to bury her in at our apartment (nor a shovel), so I guess once we have the ashes we will have to find an appropriate container of sorts. Perhaps a tiny teapot since Ethel Funk (the lunchlady, not the chinchilla) worked at the coffee/tea shop at Kutztown, where we were always getting tea. Yeah, that's right, I'm going to be the girl who has her dead chinchilla's ashes in a teapot on her non-existent mantle. If that doesn't make my 20 followers dwindle down to zero, then I suppose nothing will.



Sorry for the sad chinchilla post, I'm sure you all think I am crazy for mourning a squirrely poop-throwing critter, but she always made me smile and I loved her sassy furry ass like crazy.

