A few weeks ago, as I was going to bed, I heard a strange noise from downstairs:
flollop-flollop-flollop. Going downstairs, I traced the noise to the bathroom. I entered to find a chinchilla paddling around in the toilet. This was not entirely unexpected; I had just captured one of my young chinchillas from my outside aviary, in order to sell it. I had placed it in my study in a cage which was old and somewhat broken, so its escape did not come as a complete surprise. I pulled the chinchilla out of the toilet, placed it back in the cage, patched up the cage, and all was well.

After selling this chinchilla, I captured two more from my aviary and placed them in a new cage in my study. Last night, in the middle of the night, my wife woke me to say that there was another strange sound from downstairs. This time, listening carefully, I realized that it wasn't the chinchillas; it was a child's voice saying "Hello Saba!" But my kids were sleeping in their beds. I went downstairs to my study to find my computer playing a video of my kids saying "Hello Saba!" The culprit was sitting on the keyboard, pressing the keys with his feet: an escaped chinchilla.
The fact that it pressed a combination of keys which resulted in playing a video is not only extraordinary; it was also extremely fortuitous. Had it not done so, I would not have been woken to recapture it, and it would have done a lot more damage (as it was, it chewed part-way through one of my books!). Thank God for a technologically advanced rodent! (Strangely, though, this rodent only used the keyboard, not the mouse.)
The story doesn't end there. This morning, I received an e-mail from the menahel of the yeshivah where I teach. He asked me why I had sent him an email full of gibberish. Yep... the chinchilla had sent him an email. It looked like gibberish to me too, but perhaps it was chinchillaspeak for "Help, get me out of this house!"
Anyway, I still have two chinchilla kits left for sale, so if you want to buy some of the adorable little Houdinis, be in touch!