Our Funny Farm

For living in a basement apartment for 5 years, Ryan and I have had quite a variety of pets/family members. Some certainly qualify as one more than the other, but it has been an adventure non-the-less, one which I don't see ending any time soon. And I can honestly say I wouldn't want it to anyway.

While Ryan and I were dating before his mission, he went on a family trip and to my surprise, returned home with a bunch of tadpoles he had caught in the wild. He set up a terrarium and we went to work trying to keep them alive. It wasn't terribly hard at first. They mostly take care of themselves, so long as they have some food to eat. (Which I learned during this process, was sometimes each other. Yes, tadpoles can be cannibals.)

I don't remember how many survived, but it was a good amount! We changed the terrarium as the tadpoles grew into frogs, converting more water area into solid (well soil) ground. Once they reached this stage, it was time for live food. Crickets! Most of the time they did just fine on their own - but I think the captivity factor bred out some of their wits because they were never very good at catching the little hoping creatures. There were many times we would have to scoop up a cricket on a spoon, hold it in front of their faces, and then they could grab them. Special little amphibians. This went on throughout the entire duration of Ryan's mission. It was a great excuse to go over to his parents and hang out for a while. I am positive that we extended the frog's mortality rate 10 fold by not being out in the wild.

When Ryan came home, there were a couple still alive. 2+ years is along time! We continued to buy them crickets and keep them going. Every night the frogs would burrow down into the soil to sleep, and slowly creep out the next morning. It wasn't very often we knew where exactly they were. One day, however, the two remaining frogs did not come out from hiding. We waited and waited, but they simply never appeared. We determined that they must have "gone the way of the earth" and decided to investigate (after a few days). Sure enough, they had burrowed down about an inch apart from each other and just died. I like to think it was a male and female and that they were old in their froggy years and decided to go out together. (Yes, even frogs can be romantic.)

While the frogs were still alive, but before we got married, Ryan wanted to see if he could breed guppies. I don't remember if he had any use for them in mind if he succeeded. I think we were thinking maybe the frogs would eat them since they still spent some time in the water, but I don't recall.

Ryan purchased several little guppies, put them in a small tank, fed them, and waited. We all teased him and said it wouldn't work... but one day, to our surprise and Ryan's triumph, we noticed tons of tiny little guppies swimming around. Nature will do it's thing I guess. We never fed them to the frogs. In fact I don't think we did much of anything with them. Guppies don't last very long anyway.

About 7 months after we got married, we purchased our first real pet - one that fits more appropriately into the "family member" category. Again, being in a basement apt, we are kind of limited on animals we could have. I love cats, but Ryan isn't a fan. And I wouldn't want one to be couped up in a basement all day anyway. I do have a thing for small, cuddly looking animals. Ryan, knowing this, told me in passing that if I ever found anything that was a cross between a bunny and squirrel I could have it. Well - I found it. Actually I don't remember how we came across these delightful creatures, but I am glad we did.

Meet "Gus" the Chinchilla.

If you have never heard of a chinchilla, my most common way of describing them is a bunny-mouse-squirrel. Appropriate, no? Face of a mouse, body of a bunny, and tail like a squirrel - though none of these pictures actually show his tail. Sad day. They are often used for their fur, which is the softest thing you will ever feel, but it takes something like 300 to make a single coat. That breaks my heart. Especially when you get to know one personally.

A few days before Valentine's, after leaving the Dr's office with a very sick Ryan, we decided to drive to Animal Ark in American Fork where we had heard they had baby chinchillas. Google "baby chinchillas." They are the cutest things alive. The lady working there asked if we had a preference on boy or girl, to which we answered no. We just wanted a good natured one. She pulled Gus out of the cage and handed him to us, not based on temperament, but based on looks. He certainly was the prettiest. Most chinchillas in his coloring category are a much darker gray. Gus was a light gray with white undercoat. We played with him for a while and then decided to bring him home with us - the ultimate "this will make you feel better" treat after going to the Dr.

Gus was a total blast. After you have googled "baby chinchillas," google videos of chinchillas. Common ones have key phrases like "Matrix Chinchilla" and things like that. They are amazing creatures. They hop like a bunny, but can get going really fast and bounce of multiple walls and do all sorts of tricks. It is amazing to watch. We had a smaller cage for him, but we eventually made a giant "castle" for him. It was slightly taller than I am, and a few feet wide and deep - complete with multi-level shelving, pegs, and toys, all made from wood so he could chew all day long. They also don't take real baths as the water would ruin their fur. They take "dust baths" in special dust. They love their baths! That's another fun thing to google.

One of my favorite things about them is their tiny front paws, which they use like real hands. They can pick up almost anything. It is so cute to watch them feed themselves - just like a squirrel. They live for dried fruit. Raisins and dried apples were some of Gus's favorites, though I also learned that he liked banana (and would even eat it fresh) as well as popcorn (unsalted and buttered). He had quite the personality. He really didn't love being held, which was a tragic thing for me since all I wanted to do was cuddle him, but he was a lot of fun. Certainly very entertaining.


We bought Dodger the following year. We let them play in the hall together (under close supervision) to see what they would do. Gus was no fan of Dodger and would run down the hall and sideways kangaroo kick Dodger as he ran by. Dodger was so young and so very puppy uncoordinated that he would march down the hall, his front legs flailing about as he tried to catch up with Gus and bite that big poofy tail of his. He weren't worried about this, since Dodger stood no chance against Gus's speed and agility. The few times he did corner him he didn't know what to do with him and Gus would simply jump over his head and keep going. However, as Dodger grew, play time ended. Instead they would face off - Gus in his cage, and Dodger on the outside. Gus would run along the bottom of the cage, bounce against it to get Dodger's attention, then turn his back to him with his fluffy tail tantalizingly close-egging Dodger on. Dodger couldn't resist for long and would lunge into bark mode, pouncing up and down and running along the edge of the cage in frustration until we would firmly tell him "NO" (for barking) and make him stop, all while Gus would be watching from his top shelf laughing inside. It was the perfect glimpse into what it will be like with real siblings - one egging the other on and then trying to look innocent when the hammer falls. We knew Gus was often the instigator of these little spats, but how can you discipline a mouse?

Gus met a tragic end last year (much earlier than their average 10-15 year life span) when we returned home from our annual Uinta camping trip. We had our upstairs in-laws feed and water him while we were gone. When we returned home, we discovered that Gus was out of his cage. The cage itself was closed, but the bottom would sometimes get stuck and expose a tiny gap, but Gus had been working on making this whole much bigger for a long time. It wasn't the in-laws fault. They closed the cage. It was our fault for not telling them about the gap at the bottom and how you had to kind of kick it in to close it. At first I was terrified we would never find him, as we had left all the doors in the apt open to allow for good air flow. To my vast relief, I actually found him right next to his cage. I am positive he could have gotten back in the cage, but I think by that time he was too sick. I could tell right away something was wrong. His ears were pinned back against his head and his eyes were nearly closed. He let me scoop him up without any resistance - the biggest sign that things just weren't right. He was very lethargic. We couldn't get him to eat or drink. We walked around the house looking for things he might have gotten into. We found nothing. However, we did notice little Gus teeth marks running the entire length of the hallway along the baseboard. That little guy loved to chew on anything wood - and especially with paint. I am sure ingesting any paint would have been toxic, but we live in an old house and it's possible that the stuff he ingested had lead in it.

We did get him to drink a little electrolyte mix from a syringe, but things weren't looking good. I called the vet, but they said our best bet was to drive to Sandy to see an exotic pet vet at the emergency center. I loved that little guy enough I would have done it, but I knew there was absolutely nothing they could do for him. We spent the rest of that day and most of the next just holding him and letting him lay by us on the couch. It was horrific to watch. Ryan brought him to me early Monday morning. He died during his sleep. I bawled and bawled. I know it sounds silly. He was a rodent after all, but he was family. We took him to his parents to bury him where there wasn't such a risk of Dodger or the dog upstairs trying to unearth him. My biggest consolation was that the 24 hrs or so he was out of his cage was probably the biggest highlight of his life. He has the whole place to himself - no pesky dog chasing after him, and all the paint he could possibly want. I imagine that chinchilla heaven is much the same.

Before Gus died, but before Dodger arrived, we decided to try our hand at chicken raising. Yes... that's right. Chickens. It was still early spring when we got them and it was too cold for them outside, so we had to raise them for a while in our back room. It wasn't so bad, except that it really triggered my asthma. Probably not so much the chickens as it was the hay. I am not sure.


We had six altogether. Two white Leghorns,

Two Barred Rock,

and two Americanas. The biggest reason for the variety was because each type of bird lays a different color of egg. I don't think there is a nutritional value difference, but the color variety seemed pretty fun. There is some debate remaining about whether the two Americanas we got were the same - since the looked similar, and yet very different. We think one of them might have been an Araucana. One was tall with very red feathers while the other was shorter and had more of the dark feathers around her neck. We did not intend to give any of them names, especially seeing as the other two types were impossible to tell apart from the other. However, because the Americana/Araucanas did look different, the red one became "Red" and the other... "Sissy." This was because once Ryan made the move from apt to outside, Sissy stood on a single brick for hours, too afraid to move, while the others went right to work looking around their surroundings and getting used to the fresh air.

Ryan's parents were kind enough to let us house them in a corner of their garden area. We had them in a dog run. Their coup (though we had intentions of making a nice one for them) was an old dog house. It actually worked really well. It took a few months, but before long, they started producing eggs. It was only one or two to start with, but before long, we couldn't keep up and we were giving them away to family on a weekly basis.


This picture is pretty accurate for what we would get from our birds. The white ones lay white eggs. The black and white ones lay brown eggs, Red's eggs were an olive green, and Sissy's were a pastel green like the ones pictured above. Yes, we were able to figure out which green egg belonged to who when Ryan awkwardly "walked in" on Red "birthing" her egg. I was nearly in tears I was laughing so hard when Ryan told me about it. You should definitely ask him to act it out for you some time.

The birds were super easy to take care of and the eggs were delicious. The birds eat pretty much anything, which was a great thing for the in-laws when getting rid of left overs. They were also wonderful for garden fertilization. During the winter they would open the dog run up and create a much bigger space for them to wander. Then when spring came around, the ground was ready to bill tilled. And I might add, the last two years have been monster years for the garden!

Though I was never attached to the birds, it was fun to go over and see them and bring them food. They would run to the front of the kennel and softly cluck (or sometimes loudly squawk) when they saw us coming. I loved playing Cinderella and feeding them "scratch" - the little ground up corn stuff from the movie.

Red was the first to leave us. I went to collect eggs from the dog house one day and jumped back startled when I saw Red, quite dead, inside. I called to Ryan, "Uh Ryan... Red is dead!" He didn't believe me at first, but when he came to see for himself, there was no doubt about it. There was no clear cause of death. It was actually quite strange. She was a big, beautiful bird as far as chickens go. I am sure she would have made a tasty meal, but since we didn't know cause of death, she was thrown away rather unceremoniously.

In the last month or two we lost one white and one "salt and pepper" chicken in a similar manner. The other three have been holding on for a while, but their egg production has been nearly non-existent. They don't produce forever - just a few good years - and we have had them for just about that. Ryan made the decision that since they weren't producing any more it wasn't worth the money to feed them. I told Ryan that if he wanted to kill them and eat them, that was fine. I just didn't want to know when it happened and I didn't want to know when we ate them. He would have been fine doing it, but the guys from the "bachelor pad" across the street from his parents volunteered to take them off our hands. I guess it happened within the last couple of days. I am glad they went to good use, but I did cry thinking about Sissy. See - that's why you don't name things like chickens. I certainly wasn't in love with her, but I felt so horrible about it ending that way. I wish she had just mysteriously flopped over like the others.

It has been a lot of fun having chickens and I am bummed they are gone. But I believe we are planning on starting over with a new bunch this spring. The eggs are totally worth it. And they are definitely cost effective! But if we do, they won't be raised in our apt any more. That room is now baby's room and they aren't sharing. They can live in the garage.

This is my parent's dog, Abby, laying amongst the corn stalks, peering in at the chickens. We couldn't get her to leave for the longest time. I think we actually had to drag her out. Dodger loved the chickens too. His favorite were the white ones because they would always squawk and run away from him, which is exactly what he wanted. Reaction! He never tried to bite them. Just chased and chased them- until he ran into a black and white one. They were much stockier than the white ones and came with more attitude than the others too. They would stand their ground and peck him if he tried anything. So wisely, he learned to avoid them.

Another short-lived, (thankfully,) enterprise of Ryan's was mealworms. These do not fall into the category of pet or family member. They were simply things living in a box for Ryan's educational experience.


He purchased them with the intent of seeing if he would get them to turn into beetles, which he could then breed and feed the chickens. The guy at the store told him it couldn't be done with these types of mealworms and that they wouldn't turn into anything, but much like our experience with guppies, he proved them wrong. They did indeed turn into beetles. (I didn't know that's where they came from... That wasn't part of the birds and bees talk growing up.) Although the worm to beetle phase was successful, the beetle to larva stage was not. They simply did not reproduce, or were unable, or a combo. So when the beetles died, so did that enterprise.

Following the beetles, and still a current undertaking at our home, is red worms. Red worms are much smaller than your typical night crawler and their purpose is compost. I would guess we have several hundred of these wiggly things living in a bin right now. They will eat almost anything that was/is fresh like apples, watermelon, cucumbers, peaches, carrot peels, etc. Anything that is rotting or you would toss (like egg shells) these guys will happily gobble up and thank you with the best compost you can get. It's quite amazing actually. Ryan used it on our garden this year and it was awesome. Now that the weather is turning cold they have been moved inside to the storage room. The plus side is now they won't freeze. The negative side is that now they will be more hungry because it's warmer. So keep the scraps coming.

Of course, the true family member of this post is our little Dodger. I talk about him a lot, so I won't give a long dialogue about him other than to say I feel like he was one of the best investments we ever made. We never wanted a small dog. In fact, we weren't going to get a dog until we had a house of our own. But after dog sitting a co-workers Shih Tzu, we fell in love and here we are - almost three years later. Dodger is perfect for us because he is a great apartment dog, but he does well outside and loves to participate in all our out door adventures. He is good with kids and I really don't worry about him with the baby. I think he will certainly be jealous of the attention, but I don't blame him. He is great though. We are lucky to have him.

And lastly - the biggest pet of them all... that squirming 4 lbs child doing somersaults in my tummy. He is still nameless at 33 weeks, but he knows we love him... even if Ryan does think he resembles a giant "worm" of some sort. I had Ryan's hand on my tummy the other day while baby was doing his acrobatics, and Ryan began to pull faces and squirm almost as much as baby. "I'm sorry," he explained, "maybe I have just done too much studying in school on parasites and worms." I just laughed. If only he could feel that from his insides!


Not too many people can say that in five years of marriage they have literally had hundreds of pets. :) And I am sure the variety is a challenge to keep up with too!

We still have several other pets/"things" on our wish list, but they will have to wait until we have a house of our own - with hopefully enough land to accommodate at least two goats, several bunnies, maybe some ducks, Ryan's dream pond stocked with lots of fish, and 50 lbs turkeys. (Of those, I can say I genuinely want the goats and maybe the bunnies. The rest is Ryan. I think a 50 lbs turkey would eat me alive.)

So if anyone knows of a job that pays well enough to allow us to move a little outside of the "city" - we would love to hear about it! Cause I promise you as soon as we find one that will allow for it - this little family of circus pets is moving to hills.