We went back to Falls Road on Tuesday to check up again with Mishti. And while she slowly seemed to be improving with the bloat, her setup was still upsetting and unacceptable. We told Dr. Herko we wanted to take her home, and while he didn't agree that she was ready, he said he'd start the final paperwork and that she'd be ready to go in a few hours.

During that time, we tried to get an appoint with Dr. Bowles at Hunt Valley Animal Hospital. Mishti wouldn't be ready before she left for the day, and she wouldn't be in on Wednesday, so we made an appoint with her on Thursday. (She was Dr. Engel's first choice when finding an exotics specialist to refer us to – unfortunately, she was out last week.)

The time finally came (so we thought – we never got a call like we were supposed to) to pick up Mishti, but it took over an hour after getting back to Falls Road before we finally got Mishti back.

It was a little tough at first to give Mishti her food and meds, but with each feeding we got more comfortable with the process (a properly sized syringe makes a world of difference). Her bloating looks like it went down slightly by Wednesday night, and her breathing, while still labored and through the mouth, was less severe than the following week.

Her situation was still in a dangerous state when we got her back because she wasn't pooping [or pooping anything healthy looking]. But with continued support and advice from Chins & Quills, we were able to start coaxing some pooplets out with tummy massages.

Thursday was continued improvement, and more regular and unsolicited poops. Asma was thrilled with the latter.

Our appointment with Dr. Bowles went well. She seemed to have a lot of experience with chinchillas and didn't try to ‘push’ any specific plan of action on us, given that what she was seeing could've been a number of things.

She did, however, mention that Mishti almost certainly had a URI, so an antibiotic might be required. If she seemed to be improving, then great, just keep giving her the GI meds. But if Mishti was in need of an antibiotic, just give her a call and she could have a compounding pharmacy mix and send it to us.

We were feeling pretty good at that point (not physically, as we were both still sleep deprived): Mishti was sleeping on her side, which we felt was a sign of starting to become comfortable, she wasn't being a nightmare to feed, and at least her GI tract was becoming normal again.

At home, however, it looked like she was started to breathe harder again, and she even sneezed a few times (something we've heard her do only once). Maybe the car ride and seeing a vet again stressed her too much, or maybe it was a matter of time, but her infection was kicking in again. That was a blow to the gradual improvements.

She needed antibiotics, even with the risk of cutting into her GI improvements. For now, we had chloramphenicol we could start her off with, but we needed to call Dr. Bowles the next day to get us a prescription of Bactrim, a forum favorite. Whatever the case, it was going to be another long week of looking for signs of improvement.

Fate had some other plans.

We woke up this morning to see the most amazing thing: Mishti's breathing was normal again! Was her infection flaring up once last time before her body took over? Did the chloramphenicol knock out the remnants? I'm leaning towards the former, because her sneezing would be a sign that her sinuses were clearing.

Whatever the case, it was so relieving to see her looking close to normal. The cleared sinuses did two important things: first, it allowed her to sleep, something she probably hasn't been able to do well in over ten days (poor thing); second, she can now follow sense and enjoy her Critical Care, so it's no longer work to give her food.

Now we just need to be patient and continue with our routine. She seems to be accepting solid foods again, so we're going to try to transition her to eating by herself. And we're going to continue with one antibiotic for its entire course of 10–14 days. And once she catches up on sleep, she's going to get bits of playtime outside of the cage to regain her strength.

It's difficult to describe just how amazing it feels that our baby is probably going to be okay in the end.

The fact that we even considered euthanasia is absurd now. We weren't patient. We didn't have the knowledge or experience with sick chinchillas – not finding the right doctors initially, not finding the forums earlier, not knowing how to even diagnosis her problems ourselves. Her rapidly deteriorating health had us concerned for the suffering she was going through.

We've learned a lot in this last two weeks. Enough that we should hopefully be able to tackle any new sicknesses with precision and, most importantly, patience. We owe so much to Chins & Quills.

Mishti and Shirin are ridiculously strong, I can't say that enough. A lot of chinchillas seem to be, but these are the only two I know firsthand.

Asma found out today just how terrible a person the breeder we got Mishti from is. We saw how she kept her chins, and while we weren't at all happy with her setup (in a basement, hardly any natural light, tiny cages), we didn't think too much of it.

Turns out that a lot of people have bought or sold chinchillas to her that have died within weeks or had diseases. She goes in these cycles of saying that she's getting rid of her herd while continuing to buy more. A lot of people know she's bad, and many have even tried to get authorities to stop her, but so far she's still doing her thing.

It's deceiving too, because she sounds like such a nice person. I called her a few days ago to ask if any of her chinchillas (specifically, Mishti's parents) had any sort of problems, genetic or otherwise. She said no, but said to let her know how things turn out with Mishti's illness.

Of course, a lot of the scathing criticism and concern are coming from people we personally don't know or have any history on. But looking back, she mentioned there was a chinchilla loose in the basement the day we went, and she didn't seem concerned about finding it. And there were tiny bugs in the pellets she gave us with Mishti.

Also, Mishti had giardia when we got her – learning the news about Tracy (scubakitty@erols.com) tonight, I put together the squishy poop that Mishti had (which I thought was just a baby chinchilla thing) to some typical symptoms of giardia in adults (squishy poop). Maybe her illness now is a result of giardia?

Whatever the case, Shirin was exposed to Mishti initially, and Shirin is around Mishti's poops when she's out in the living room. She hasn't shown signs of any stomach problems, so, for now we can at least assume that it's not active in her. But we're going to have to do stool samples pretty soon just to make sure that isn't a possibility.

I've hardly read through the forums, but Asma has been on a lot and has relayed some bad stories from other people. It's sick that people out there would willingly starve chinchillas (or any animals, for that matter) to death and leave their bodies to rot with live animals in the same cage or room. Or breed animals that should not be bred (or keep them in shitty conditions).

So we have a pretty clear goal in life, I think. We're going to start rescuing animals and get involved with animal rights and welfare. America as a country has no right to allow the sale of anything besides cats and dogs, and even then, there's a lot to be done with rooting out unethical breeders. But the public has to want that. People need to be held accountable for learning about the animals they buy and the costs required to get the right care when it gets sick. There is an endless supply of animals given up at shelters, yet there's a endless supply of ‘new’ animals at pet stores as well.

Sad.

So far, Penelope and Proud Feather are our only pet store animals, but never again. It's pretty much the same culture with human babies: adoption or biological?

The life we live. Go humans! Allah's greatest creation!

The doctor on duty last night, Dr. Johnson, gave a poor prognosis on Mishti and explained just how badly the gas had spread through her system, and how fast it was being created. We had to keep her there for the night if she had any real chance of living.

She also mentioned that gas could potentially cause breathing problems.

So this entire ordeal could've just been a case of gas.

Eastern Exotics fucked up with the diagnosis. They did their best, but they clearly had no real chinchilla experience. The doctors at Falls Road could see from the first X-rays where gas was building up – nothing major at the time, but it was definitely present; Eastern didn't bring up gas build-up at all. So the triple-antiobiotics on top of whatever other drugs Mishti was being given killed her natural ability to break down the gas, resulting in an exponentially worse problem.

(I started having concerns around Friday that she was being given too many antibiotics and wanted to pull her off all of them since there was no sign of improvement.)

Not only that, her bloating was a minor concern to them, because they only prescribed a minor medicine to control it. Mishti's case required some ‘heavy duty’ medicine (Reglan and Propulsid) to get her system going again.

We were in disbelief that a potentially tiny issue could've been corrected for maybe $100 and minimal stress for Meesh. Instead, we're going on 10 days of our baby being in pain and discomfort, and at least $2000 poorer.

But no more dwelling on that for now.

We visited Mishti again today (and had lunch at Evergreen, a cute little cafe in Baltimore). Her bloating had gone down a little. We weren't happy with her setup (a fish tank, no privacy, and a light above her, among other things), and spent a couple of hours back at Evergreen contemplating whether or not we should take her home.

We finally decided to and went back to the hospital, but Dr. Herko was pretty adamant about keeping her there at least another night since today's (yesterday's?) X-rays showed some movement of gas and some promise of improvement. In the end, we were convinced and decided to give her another night.

We're just really stressed out. Dr. Herko has Mishti's best interest in mind, and he is one of two vets there that have chinchilla experience, so we're going to follow his advice since he's been able to answer our questions and acknowledge our concerns. On top of that, he saw that she was being given way too many meds, and cut back to just the essentials.

Mishti seems to be having more energy now, probably because she's not drugged and dragged down. But it's good to see that she's been a fighter this whole time. We always thought she was a bit of a wuss, but chinchillas are ridiculously strong-willed. They're amazing.

—

Baltimore is worlds apart from D.C. It's much…sadder and seedier in many ways, but it probably has a lot more interesting and varied things. It's a catch-22 if we wanted to live there. The suburbs are probably nicer, though, so there's still a chance, if nothing better pops up?

There was a block (which intersected with Gay Street, no joke) which had several strip clubs and sex shops. The next block over had a large police station. Weird.

I wish D.C. had homier cafes. Maybe it does and we're not finding them?

I also wish we could teleport. We've driving far too much. And there's more to go. Haven't had time to go to the gym in more than a week. Neither of us. We're in need of relax time and home cooking.

They did skull X-rays yesterday, and they didn't see anything abnormal. But after examining them ourselves and using gdanzer13's X-rays for perspective (thank you so much for those), we're seeing Mishti's teeth growing into her skull. Among other things, it's preventing her from breathing.

We just need to get confirmation that this is indeed the problem. And hopefully someone will be able to fix it. And then Mishti can be on the road to recovery.

Honestly, she's not doing well at all. She has a lot of gas build-up, but maybe consistent assisted feeding along with Mylicon will bring that all down. Her poops look to be improving, but we won't know for a few more hours whether that's working. Aside from that, it's hard to tell what else is going on internally. She's still alert and has bursts of energy when she's not completely sapped, but we really need a resolution to this soon. Her quality of life is not good.

We owe a lot of thanks to the Chins & Quills community. People are being very supportive and helpful (the molasses mixed in with Critical Care is an amazing trick). I don't think we'd be taking great care of her without their input.

Thanks to Asma as well for doing a lot of research and finding that community and other resources.

On the negative side, here breathing hasn't improved at all. She had to be put on oxygen temporarily because her breathing got too heavy.

And there's still no way to know what exactly is happening.

On Saturday, Asma noticed Mishti making strange sounds. It was a hoarse sort of breathing that didn't sound good at all, and she was breathing through her mouth. We went to Brookeville Animal Hospital soon after she noticed. Dr. Engel was worried by it but didn't know what exactly it could be (potentially pneumonia? a respiratory infection? asthma?). She took X-rays and didn't find anything abnormal – Mishti's mediastinum was a bit enlarged, but that in itself didn't necessarily mean anything.

We realized that on Friday night, when Mishti was out, she had close contact with Hammy Bottoms's cage, which contained red cedar bedding. It's a no-no for a lot of animals (including rodents) but each animal reacts differently. And while Dr. Engel didn't know for sure, she said it could very well be the cause of all this. Too much of a coincidence, but nothing conclusive.

So we were on our way with an antibiotic (Baytril) and an anti-inflammatory (Metacam). It was hell to give to Mishti, but we managed to do it with a tiny measuring spoon.

Sunday was more of the same symptoms, although it seemed less severe; we were hopefully about the meds, so maybe our observations were skewed. Her food dish looked untouched, but we couldn't tell for sure. So I emptied it and replaced it with new food. She tried drinking water and gave out these little shrieks after a few sips, like she was choking. It was painful to watch.

On Monday, we saw that the food was still untouched, which worried us more. We also thought that maybe it was just congestion in her nose that kept her from breathing normally. So we called Brookeville again. Dr. Engel said she'd have some Critical Care formula waiting for us along with instructions on giving Benadryl.

If giving meds was hell, giving Mishti actual food was like hell within hell.

She only took down a little more than half the dose. And how can we blame her? She's breathing through her mouth: she can't breathe and eat at the same time. Mishti had her Benadryl, though, and it sounded as if her breathing was getting a little watery. Again, we were excited and thought this would be it. But towards the end of the day, no improvement.

We had another feeding session that went better in some ways. We gave up quickly with the Critical Care, because her struggling was draining away more energy than the food probably would've given. But she seemed willing to eat raisins. Asma blended a mixture of Timothy hay, pellets, and Critical Care in the hopes that the powdery form would be much easier for Mishti to take down. She didn't care for it, so Asma blended some raisins and covered a clump of it in the powdery mixture, and Mishti did respond to that. She didn't eat much, but it was better than nothing, and definitely better than fighting with her. She had another coughing fit with water, though. A lot more violent than the day before.

At this point we were really worried and stressed – Mishti didn't seem to have the energy or interest to take a full dust bath even though much of her fur was matted down from the oils on our hand. We decided to give her to Brookeville's ICU the next day, in the hopes that they could feed her more effectively and just take better care of her in general.

Tuesday came, and we were on our way to the vet again (around 20 miles away). We dropped her off then headed to campus for Asma's class.

On our way back home, Dr. Engel called and told us that Mishti refused to eat and was in worse shape than when she last saw her, and that based on her behavior, it was possible that she had an internal mass forming somewhere that was interfering with her breathing. She recommended we take her to someone for an ultrasound, and after calling around she told us she made an appointment at Eastern Exotic (where we took Mishti for her pink eye), and that she'd be hospitalized there since they'd be able to give her better care (aside from having access to a lot of resources, there would be a doctor monitoring all the animals 24 hours a day, whereas Brookeville didn't monitor hospitalized animals at night).

Good timing, in a way, because the exit to get to Brookeville was just coming up. After managing to get through a 20-minute bottleneck to travel one block after the exit, we were on our way again for the fourth time in three days. Unfortunately, getting to Eastern Exotic was a big hassle, because there was no shortcut: we basically had to go home first, then go for another 20ish mile drive (in shitty Beltway traffic).

But we finally got there, and Dr. Ross checked Mishti out. No new diagnosis. And there wouldn't be an ultrasound, unfortunately. Because of Mishti's size and condition (and her hate of being held against her will at this point), an ultrasound would be impossible without sedation, and sedation was dangerous with her respiratory problems.

Monday and Tuesday were extremely long. Lots and lots of driving and worrying. And a lot of stress. I couldn't go into work either day, and Asma missed one of her classes.

Asma cried and I teared up at different times. Our baby was going through all these struggles and couldn't eat or drink without it being uneasy and painful. We didn't want to think that she wouldn't be able to come home ever again. She's the sweetest little thing. Such a funny, skittish, non-aggressive personality. And she's so creative with her space (she's always rearranging things in her cage and wrapping yarn around her Chube and house).

Of all our pets, we're most attached to Shirin and Mishti, mostly because they were the only unbonded ones of the family and we gave more time and attention to. Of the two, though, I think that losing Mishti would be hardest. Shirin is super strong: even after the whole ordeal of being stuck behind the walls for three days, we have yet to take her to the vet, and she yet to give a hint of anything wrong. Not that it's an excuse to not take her to the vet, but she's going to live a long life for sure. This, however, is Mishti's third incident in less than nine months. And her worst one at that.

We do baby her a lot, but she's not even a year old yet, so it's expected. But she's not a year old. It doesn't seem fair that she has to go through this without having lived long enough. She could potentially be around for another 19 years if we're lucky.

I dunno. I won't try anymore to say what she means to us. We've pretty much committed $1500 for her care [for this week alone] to make sure she gets healthy again. We can't take the vacation we were planning on, but it's all good if it gives our baby a chance.

There's nothing significant to report. We visited Mishti today, and she is looking worn out. Feeding is not only a stress on her but also on the staff. She's on three antibiotics now (including an injectable one), but it's too soon to tell whether any of those will have a positive effect. She hasn't lost anymore weight or gotten worse, which is a relatively good sign. The doctors are also nebulizing water and Mucinex (as of today).

I'm hopeful that, come tomorrow morning, we're going to hear good news that her congestion is breaking up. That would be the best thing I've heard in a long time.

On Saturday, we went to the Animal Welfare League of Arlington and adopted a bonded pair: Sandy (five years-old) and Chris (three years-old). They both looked extremely healthy and active, which was a big draw in me wanting to get those two (the only other parakeet was a girl who already had someone interested in her).

It wasn't a wise idea on my part, because despite parakeets being a colony animal, three is just too odd a number.

Initially, Penelope and the others were extremely excited and curious to see each other when we put the cages next to each other. But after we put Penelope in the cage, she slowly began to get quiet as her dominance gave way to Chris's. And it's not her loss of dominance that makes the arrangement bad: she's gotten quiet to the point that I never hear her, unless she's annoyed with one of the other birds. She used to chatter nonstop several times a day, but she doesn't even chatter. Sandy, who we thought was very shy, makes a lot more noise than Penelope.

It just seems that Penny is being excluded from the group, and maybe her being in a new cage takes away from her confidence/happiness. Whatever the case, we want our old Penny back. We're taking Chris and Sandy back to the shelter, unfortunately, but it's not fair to our baby otherwise. She needs a partner to be happy with.

As if that isn't enough animal news, my in-laws are away in Europe (again) for three weeks. They'll be back on July 4, so until then, we're responsible for the house, plus we have to take care of the finches, fish, and a hamster (Hammy Bottoms (whose name I gave)). The finches have one newborn and three eggs. I won't give my opinion on that situation, but the baby is ridiculously small and cute, from what I could see.

We brought Hammy home with us, since he'd be alone otherwise and is used to human interaction and running around. He waddled along in his ball into the babies' room, sort of spooking the bunnies. Elton gave him some sniffs at one point. I think Elton could get along with most any animal. We were thinking of introducing Proud Feather to him at one point.

Last year, around this time, when we had to do the same thing (with them being in Europe, then Iran), there was no finch baby or eggs or hamster. But there was a huge torrential rain that flooded the basement and killed the swimming pool. Basement clean-up was a bitch, and we only caught that because Asma went down there to look for duct tape.

The swimming pool was a nightmare. Algae, algae, algae. We had such a hard time trying to clean the fucking thing. I spent so much time with it.

So when I heard that baba opened the pool, I groaned [to myself and to Asma]. He got the hint from us though, and said he was going to cover the pool. Of course, when we were there last night to say our goodbyes, we also had to cover the pool. In the rain.

But whatever. It's covered. As long as we make sure that the cover doesn't get pulled down by pools of water on top, and that sunlight doesn't get inside the pool, we won't have anything major to worry about, theoretically.

Et set oh-yah, as Sprite would say.

Does anyone want to give us a down payment for a condo here? Or a house somewhere cheaper?

Proud Feather died around 12:30 today. I was working from home and as I passed his cage around 11, I saw him on the cage floor looking so weak. Asma was on her way to campus and didn't hear her phone ring, so I asked our neighbor Michael if he could take me to the vet, which he so kindly did.

But it was too late. Dr. Engel gave two options – leave him with them in their ICU and maybe the heat in his little space would help revive him enough so that she could examine him with minimal stress, or put him to rest. I said to keep him in the ICU.

As we were leaving the clinic, an assistant ran out and said Dr. Engel wanted to see me. When I got into the room I guessed what she was going to say to me.

I cried. Not as much as when Squeaker died so many years ago, but it's funny that the second time in like 15 years that I'd cry over an animal would be another parakeet. I still have a headache from it. That mixed in with bad sleep the last few nights, I guess.

We don't have many great pictures of Penelope or Proud Feather, but the good ones that we do have were just taken in the last couple of weeks.

Proudy was a sweetheart. We gave him his name because he was puffed up and upright and looked very handsome. But the puffiness was really him being sick, pretty much since we got him in March 2006. I feel really guilty that we didn't take him to the vet recently for that. I kept pushing it back. And he pretty much hid the seriousness of it until the very end.

We're going to miss him. I don't know if it's sunk in with Penelope that he's not coming back, but whatever the case, I hope she doesn't take the loss too hard.

Sweet dreams, baby boy.

Bush Calls Emissions a Priority
Call for global greenhouse gas goals called inadequate

BAGHDAD | U.S. troops battled al-Qaeda in west Baghdad on Thursday after Sunni residents challenged the militants and called for American help to end furious gunfire that kept students from final exams and forced people in the neighborhood to huddle indoors.

…

I was confused for a few seconds.

Also, Andrew Speaker is a total jackass. That he could willingly board a plane – knowing he had an extremely dangerous form of tuberculosis – so that he wouldn't have to put off his wedding is beyond me. Hopefully no one will be affected by his negligence.

That being the case, she got a hotel room at a discounted rate from United Air (her new flight left at 6 this morning) and Asma and I met her for dinner. We got a little lost trying to get to the hotel, but we found it and got to Rio Grande with little problem.

On the way back, however, we were really screwed. All our problems started on this road called Herndon Parkway. We just needed to make a turn on Old Ox Road (Rt. 606). We thought, well, maybe I turned onto Herndon Parkway in the wrong direction, so I turned around. We saw signs for Rt. 606 being ahead. Ahead where?

We passed Spring Street, where I initially made the turn, and figured now we were set. But as I was driving I noticed that we just passed some streets I crossed going the other direction. And then we passed the same cemetery we just saw.

”Is this road a U?“ I asked stupidly. It's a circle. Dammit.

That still doesn't help anything, because Old Ox is supposed to be off Herndon. We detour on another main street, stopping at a gas station and then a hotel for directions and getting two wrong answers. It's around 11:30 by the time I stopped at a second gas station and looked through a map.

Turns out that we needed to turn onto Sterling Road, which becomes Old Ox. Which we passed twice, long ago. It's great that the idiots at the department of transportation didn't think to put up a Rt. 606 sign at the Sterling intersection.

So my poor mom got maybe two and a half hours of sleep before having to get ready to go to the airport. Because Google Maps and the government failed us.