I live in a dorm. My dorm doesn’t allow us to have animals, unless it’s a fish in a less-than-ten-gallon bowl. My suitemates decided to rebel against this rule by bringing home a cute little chinchilla. Chaos ensued.

It all starts with them sneaking him into the room by putting him in a brown box taped like a package with holes in the top.  They got all covert and snuck it past the security guard, although I think they had a deal with him because how else do you get a chinchilla and its cage past security.  They were probably all buddy-buddy wink-wink like:


When I first see it, I’m all “OMG, it’s so cute and little!” I even get to name him (Spiderman). So I get all excited and enchanted with the idea like:


We set him up in the common room and over the next few days I kind of forget about the chinchilla. Then, all of my suitemates decide to go away for the night and leave me alone in our apartment. I fall asleep around 3 a.m. with my bedroom door open to the common room (usually its closed but I forget since no one is around making noise). I’m out like a light within seconds, like:


Until I’m startled awake at 5 a.m. by a sound under my bed.  I try to ignore it but I just toss and turn until I decide to try to find the source of the noise. It isn’t loud but it’s close and kind of sounds like scratching. I realize that it’s coming from under my bed. I stare in the direction of the noise for a little while, all nervous, like:


I have a flashback to when I was little and I used to be afraid of monsters under the bed and I want to hide under the covers like:

But I know I have to figure out what’s going on. Just as I’m stretching out to look under my bed without putting my feet on the ground (because that’s how the monsters get you), a little ball of fluff streaks past me to sit under my roommate’s bed. The chinchilla had escaped his cage and is staring right at me. As if that isn’t upsetting enough, I realize that he could totally jump onto my bed and attack me if he wanted to. So I’m all:


I freak out a little and call my friend who lives upstairs and make her come help me catch Spiderman. Obviously, I owe her a huge:

We chase the chinchilla around the room, finally capturing him by cornering him in the closet. We put him back in the cage and fix the wires by rubber-banding them together. So we’re all celebratory like:

The next day I tell my suitemates that Spiderman needs to go back to the pet store. They don’t really seem in a rush to get rid of him, but then we realize that my two suitemates and my roommate are all alergic to him. So now they’re all eager to make plans to send him off and I’m all:

Because I’m right and it makes me slightly smug.

But it’s been more than a week since then and he’s still here, sitting in his cage in the common room, constantly looking for ways out of the cage.

In the meantime, I’ve been avoiding the common room. When he finally leaves, I’m going to do a happy dance like this:


There really will be dancing lobsters involved. That’s how happy I’ll be.

How do you deal with difficult situations like this with your roommates/suitemates?

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