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At first reluctantly, then with growing excitement, Fluffer jumps onto the numerous shelves that were clearly designed for this very purpose. When he tires of exploring the shelves, he leaps onto a flying saucer-like contraption and runs as fast as his little paws allow.
I grin. “Is that a chinchilla treadmill?”
Art’s grin matches mine. “Closer to a chinchilla hamster wheel.”
I blink, mesmerized by Art’s glinting eyes. “Too cute.”
“I should feed him.” He leaves the room and comes back with the box.
“What’s in the box?” I ask. “Is it Gwyneth Paltrow’s head?”
He frowns. “Why?”
“I can’t tell you without spoiling a certain movie,” I say.
“Fine.” He opens the box.
“Is that hay?” I pick up a few dried stalks and sniff them. Yep. Exactly like the stuff we played in at my parents’ farm. “Is this for Fluffer or a surprise pony you’re about to give me as a wedding gift?”
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t you remember what the guy at the store said?”
I wince. “Sorry.”
“We need to make sure Fluffer always has access to hay,” Art says in a professorial tone. “It’s good for his dental, physical, and digestive health.”
“Hey, I don’t have a problem with hay.”
Shaking his head, Art arranges the hay inside what must be a feeder, then attaches a weird bottle contraption near it. It reminds me of something I’ve seen at the farm.
“Is that a water bottle with a straw with a metal ball?”
“Yes. In case you forgot, we can’t use a bowl for water as that could lead to Fluffer’s fur getting wet—and that’s bad.”
“Why, will he spawn more adorable furballs?”
Art looks at me like I’ve spawned a few furballs.
“You know, if you feed him after midnight, he turns into a gremlin?”
Art’s expression doesn’t change, but now Fluffer stares at me also.
Me, a gremlin? Have you looked into a mirror lately?
I sigh. “If this marriage is going to work, there’s a list of movies you’ll have to see. Put one called Gremlins at the top.”
“I’ll watch whatever you ask me to,” Art says. “Can we get back to chinchillas getting wet?”
I giggle. “It just hit me. Gremlins aren’t the only ones whose reproduction involves getting wet.”
“So mature,” he says with an eyeroll. “Anyway, getting wet can lead to fur fungus or ringworm, or cause hypothermia. In general, chinchillas don’t like getting wet.”
Fluffer grabs a stalk of hay and begins munching on it.
Everything he said is true, so when your carnivorous nature is finally revealed, for the love of fur, don’t make me into a soup.
I eye the adorable furball with a grin. “Will we need to brush him?”
“Need, no,” Art says. “He’ll groom himself. Some of them do like to be brushed, though, so we can try it once he gets used to us a little.”
