Paul hadn't been in with Chiquito for almost a month, thanks to construction of the new cage and a "trap" door between the two sides that's operational from the escape area. But there was also a large panel in the common wall that could be opened to make it one big cage at some point in the future, and Chiquito decided the time had come. (There's a combination lock on it now, per Oscar's suggestion.) Lolita went wild, fearing the worst from her new cage companion - and Oscar, Paul and I all came running. It actually seemed like we had things under control. I sprayed Chiquito with the hose. Paul got Lolita out. But someone had to go into the cage with Chiquito to close the big panel, and while we didn't foresee a problem, Chiquito was just too excited for company. We should have waited until he dried off (he hates getting wet), and settled down. Translation? Our mistake.
Long story short, Paul couldn't get Chiquito out of the escape area back into either half of the cage. Chiquito nibbled on Paul's ankle. Paul pushed him off. And then Paul yelled: "He bit me hard!" as blood pulsed out of his forearm.
There was blood everywhere. Oscar turned the hose on Chiquito, who headed into the cage. Oscar then proceeded to hose enough blood out of the escape area for a vampire film. In the meantime I called our neighbor Gloria to come up to monkeysit Lolita, wrapped Paul's forearm in a towel, and drove him into town to our doctora...who is also a surgeon.
Long story short, Paul couldn't get Chiquito out of the escape area back into either half of the cage. Chiquito nibbled on Paul's ankle. Paul pushed him off. And then Paul yelled: "He bit me hard!" as blood pulsed out of his forearm.
There was blood everywhere. Oscar turned the hose on Chiquito, who headed into the cage. Oscar then proceeded to hose enough blood out of the escape area for a vampire film. In the meantime I called our neighbor Gloria to come up to monkeysit Lolita, wrapped Paul's forearm in a towel, and drove him into town to our doctora...who is also a surgeon.
Thank goodness we didn't go to the Emergency Room...
Paul was anticipating interior stitches to close up an artery before stitches to close up the skin. I visualized a four inch battle scar. But apparently Chiquito had just snagged a tooth in Paul's vein, and the vein sprayed blood all over the place before collapsing. Nary a stitch was needed. In fact, the doctor applied two little round band-aids, and didn't want to charge us.
"Were you playing or fighting?" she asked Paul.
"Fighting," Paul responded.
"Poor monkey!" she said, and laughed.
When Paul went back for his follow-up visit, she inquired about Chiquito and they both laughed.
"Were you playing or fighting?" she asked Paul.
"Fighting," Paul responded.
"Poor monkey!" she said, and laughed.
When Paul went back for his follow-up visit, she inquired about Chiquito and they both laughed.
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