The time was up today. Our six little degu surprises had to leave the home nest and scamper their way elsewhere. I’ve been looking forward to this day for the past while. Two degus are cute and cuddly. They’re fairly neat and don’t require a whole lot of care.
Eight degus? That’s a different story, especially when six of them are babies.
These guys would get into all sorts of trouble. Their recent favorite past time was jumping up to the top of the tank and running upside down on the metal grate, until their claws would slip out and they’d fall to the floor. They also loved to hold on to the plastic edge of the tank and eat it.
No one ever would accuse these guys of being particularly smart. Brave, sure. Brains? Not so much.
And they eat and poop and pee like it’s going out of style. I had to change the tank much more often, and they smelled much more quickly. And when I had to change the tank, that meant I had to get them out of the tank. Turns out baby degus like to scamper around on the human body. Last time, one crawled up my sleeve before I could get him.
Ever try to get a baby degu out from your undershirt without squishing the poor thing, all while he’s scampering back and forth across your back?
It’s been an adventure, my friends.
TRC and DC even started naming the little guys. Their favorite (Undershirt guy) they dubbed “Mischief.” Except DC couldn’t quite get that name down, so she called him “Mischip,” instead. I love that name, and will likely use it at some point.
In any case, the time had come. Freedom from it all at last. And of course, I felt really bad about it. Here I was, separating the happy degu family, taking the babies away from their parents, selling them off to the store ($5 a head, no less!). I had become the villain of an animated movie. The guilt . . . it was severe.
Then again, I know that Shadow and Shooting Star (our real pets) can and will make more degus where that came from. As much as four times per year. Six or so per time. 24 per year? That’s . . . a lot of degus.
So stay tuned for reports of the next batch. Son of Mischip is no doubt on his way . . .
Or, in this case, brother of Mischip.
Excellent point. Though with our incestuous little degus, I wouldn’t put out the possibility that Son of Mischip is the same degu as Brother of Mischip. Though now that I write that, I wonder if that’s even possible. I suppose if you have a son with your own mother, it is. Best not to dwell too long on degu relations. That way lies madness . . .