April 1, 2003, 3:00 PM, Dot had delivered two kits within the hour, both
male. The black velvet weighed a healthy 48 grams, but the standard gray
only 38 grams. Trooper, the black velvet, was snuggled to his momma
nursing, but the standard gray, Joker, only lay close to his mother for
warmth, not even trying to nurse. I named him Joker, because he was born
on April Fool's Day and was hoping the joke would be on me, because he
looked as if he may not make it. His body was twisted, both hind legs
twisted to one side and he could not stand, he would just fall over when
you set him on his feet. By 5:00 PM, his mother had rejected him. This is
normal for a mother chin when :
(1) she does not have enough milk for all, she will reject the weakest to
insure the strongest one will survive, OR
(2) she senses he is going to die anyway, for whatever the reason may be.
Mother nature gives this instinct to most four-legged mothers.
It was time for the 'new born kit' to come out ... I did not know for sure
which of the two reasons Dot had rejected him. The first 24 hours is
critical, keeping him warm and getting him nutrition. I was careful to put
only a drop at a time on his lips or just inside his mouth, making sure that
the formula would not get into his lungs or back flow into his sinuses and
add to his problems. He would take only 1 or 2 drops of formula every 30
minutes for the first 8 hours, fussing at me with each drop ... but, that's
o.k. ... his lungs need the stimulation. Then he began to take 3 or 4 drops
every 30 to 45 minutes. In between feedings he would snuggle inside my
shirt to keep warm as he listened to my heart beat. If I heard even the
least little chirp out of him or felt his nose rubbing against me, he would
get fed ... even if it was not the scheduled time for feeding him. :)
By Wednesday, the 2nd, he was taking 6 to 8 drops every hour and
holding his weight. That afternoon, at 24 hours old, he stood for the first
time. Around 6 PM he took his first steps, normally done within the first
15 minutes of life after birth of a chinchilla kit. They were not normal
steps, he could only walk in circles counter clock-wise. Maybe Dot is
correct, maybe something is bad wrong with him, but I can't give up, not
as long as he is willing to fight. It had been 27 hours and by now I was
tired and had to get some rest, so I tried putting him in with another
family of chins, since his mother would still not take him.
As with human children, chinchilla kits, do not yet know 'the rules of
mother nature' ... 2 1/2 week old Patches accepted him and tried to keep
him warm. Patches' parents, Jo-Jo and Puff, would not accept the kit, it
was to weak, they know his chances to live are not good. It must be an odor
in their breath that tells them, because Jo-Jo cleaned him, started to tuck
him under her, but sniffed his breath and walked away. But Patches, their
own kit, huddled over him to keep him warm. He would offer him the
streingth of the love of a sibling even though they were not brothers. Love
is something I think we can feel, even at birth, and it can bring us through
when nothing else can. About an hour later Puff finally accepted Joker
and helped to keep him warm. When he got a little stronger, Jo-Jo,
Patches' mom, would clean Joker, stimulate him and try to keep him
warm, also. Joker was still not strong enough to nurse, even though Jo-Jo
had tucked him neatly under her, trying to get him to nurse. Why he
would not nurse, I did not know, it was if he did not know how to do it.
Never had I seen this in a kit before. I hoped for the best as I took my first
real rest, midnight Wednesday night, after being awake for 48 hours ... I
slept for 4 hours.
Thursday morning, day three, 4 a.m., when I woke, I found Joker had lost
two grams and was now down to 36 grams. The little stinker pee-peed on
the scales, but I appreciated it, because it was not on me. He was now
taking 1/2 to 3/4 of an eye dropper of formula every two hours, but was
getting weaker. His brother Trooper was now weighing 56 grams and
doing good. Again, only Patches, the white mosaic kit, would accept and
keep his foster brother warm. After 4 hours and some coaxing, Jo-Jo and
Puff would begin to help keep him warm again, but Joker was still not
nursing. I knew if he dropped to 32 grams, he probably would not make it,
so I tried adding 3 pellets of Mazuri and 1 calf manna pellet to the 2
ounces of formula I had mixed up. He was so cute as he smacked his lips
and tried to chew the liquid mush, a sign that he thought it tastes good to
him. :) He can walk around the bottom of the cage a little now and in a
straight line instead of circles. He even tried once to jump, only to catch
his foot on a piece of the pine bedding trip, and fall, but he is trying.
Unfortunately, later that day I would weigh him, only to find that he had
lost 2 more grams and was now down to 34 grams, getting much to close to
that 32 gram line of danger. I started 1/2 dropper of Pedilyte every 2
hours alternating with 1/2 to 3/4 eye dropper of formula every two hours,
so he could be being fed every hour on the hour.
Friday, day four, 3 a.m., his weight is back up to 35 grams, but he is still
weak and not nursing yet. Jo-Jo, Puff and little Patches keep him warm, I
feed him and we all love him. As the day goes on he dropped back to 34
grams, but still fights to keep going. About 3 PM I took an hour's nap, this
is day 4 and it's beginning to show on me. He's still taking his formula and
even a little Nutri-Cal. He walks around the bottom of the cage, with the
unsteady legs of a new born.
Dr. Vanessa, our vet, and I talked, I could tell it was hard for her to tell
me what I already knew; Joker probably had something wrong with him
even before he was born. Should he survive, what ever may be wrong with
him now, may show up later on and cause problems for him. You see, what
I did not tell you in the beginning, was that I thought Dot was only going
to have one kit, because I had only felt one kit moving. This in itself was a
warning ahead of time ... one I chose not to listen to. Usually, if they live
through the first 72 hours and you can get them to nurse a foster chin
mom, they will make it. I had been through this before. Most of the time,
they will make it and only once had one of the little ones have a problem
show up later on. So I had to keep trying.
About 8 PM when Jo-Jo and Puff rejected him again, I tried putting him
with Tammy and Timmy ... They tried to clean him, stimulate him, and
keep him warm. It seemed like they were all willing to go against mother
nature and try to help this little Joker with his chance to live. But ... he
was much weaker now and down to 33 grams. 11 PM, he began to walk in
circles again, counter clock wise, as before. I knew the end would probably
be soon. So I took him and tucked him next to my heart again. I could not
leave him in with one of the chin families and have it traumatize them,
they had tried so hard to help.
Saturday morning, the 5th, about 3 a.m. he would no longer eat and was
down to 31 grams. As I sat in the computer chair with my feet up in
another chair, I noticed that his mom, Dot, Jo-Jo, Puff, Patches, Tammy,
Timmy and Tony were all at the front of their cages watching every move
I made and listening to every sound Joker made, not playing as they
normally would at this hour, as all the other chins were doing. They had
been doing this ever since I took him out that last time, they knew his time
was near. At 5 a.m. he nuzzled, as if looking for food. He took a full
dropper of formula ... maybe he would make it after all. 6 a.m. another 1/2
dropper full, made a little squeak before closing his eyes. 6:21 a.m. another
squeak and a gasp. Our little Joker was gone. He was a great little fighter,
but was just not meant to be. His short time on this earth was not in vain.
He brought together three families of chins to share his love. They all
watched me as I gently wrapped him up in a soft white cloth. I heard a
sound, I had not heard a chin make before ... it came from one of the adult
chins and suddenly all the chins (all 91) were quiet, no longer hopping and
playing in their cages. It was as if some one hit a 'mute' button. Could they
all know what had just happened? I do not know, but for half an hour all
was quiet. Was it that it was the time for them to stop playing and sleep? I
looked at the clock, it was 7 a.m., they are usually still playful at this time
of day ... but, not today.
