I’m totally adorable!

I am smart, good-looking, will cuddle up to you if you need me, and I’m totally adorable.

Bertie
Bertie

So why does Mummy say I’m a monster?

Okay, that Roscoe told tales about me fighting him a few weeks ago.

Biggles in his run

And when I sneaked into Bertie’s run while Mummy was snoozing on Friday evening, well, it was his own fault we got into a fight.  It was nothing to do with me. Why he was hiding in his tent, crying, when Mummy woke up, I have no idea.  He’s a big baby.  I was just in his tunnel, making sure next door’s cat didn’t intrude on our territory.

Apparently, apart from lots of patches where his hair has been pulled out, Biggles has a big bite on his back. Mummy’s put him straight onto Roscoe’s medicine before my germs can get nasty.  MY germs?  I reckon they’re Biggles’ germs.  Or Roscoe’s even, leaving them lying around wherever he’s been.  He goes everywhere, that chap. AND he’s been eating the bottom of the hay bag so the hay drops onto the floor.  That’s quite clever, actually.  I wish I’d thought of that.

But I don’t do things like eat hay bags.  I’m a good boy.  I’m totally adorable!

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Emergency! Send cucumber!

There was no cucumber this morning!

It’s the end of the world!

First the grass disappears, then the cucumber disappears.  What’s gonna happen next?

We’ve been running around on hard brown grass for the weeks now. It’s even browner than in those pictures.  I don’t mind that much.  There’s a tiny weeny piece of grass that appears just outside our run, and Mam moves the last panel slightly so we can get at it.  I always share what’s left with Neville.  I have to test it first. Mam gives us readigrass when we go in, which is nice.

Testing the green grass

Mam says she’s making it rain just a little on our grass when we’ve gone inside in the evening.  She usually makes it rain on the vegetables and some of the flowers, and even one of the trees when we’re still out. We’re staying in that area because it’s nice and shady, and the rest of the grass is even browner.

It’s not going to rain anytime soon.  I saw the weather forecast this morning. When we did NOT have cucumber with our cuddles. (She said there were none in the store when she went to get some more). We did have parsley instead.  But it’s just not the ticket, Mam.

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Bertie in tthe tunnel

There’s no grass left

Hello it’s Bertie here.

I don’t know what’s going on.  There’s no grass left where Mummy puts us out in the evening for grass time.  It’s all brown.  Although there is a little around the edges.  I nibble that but it’s not enough for a real supper. We spend most of our days sheltered form the sun in our runs.

Most days Mummy goes around the vegetable patches with a funny bucket-thing with a spout which makes it rain where she points it.  Sometimes she does one vegetable patch, the next day she’ll do the other, and she sometimes waters one of the trees and some of the flowers.  And sometimes some things under the roof of the patio, too.  I suppose she has to make it rain because it hasn’t rained for ages.  She doesn’t make it rain on the grass, though.

Please make it rain on the grass, Mummy.  We need it.

Roscoe

Eat, sleep, work

Mornin’g all, Roscoe here.

I remembered to put the ‘g’ on up there, did you see that?  What, no ‘ thing?  Okay.

It’s a hard life being a guinea pig y’know.  Eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep, work.  I guess we work at what you call ‘play’, but it’s serious business, you know.

Take morning floor time.  That’s hard work.  It’s called exercise, and as ye may know, some exercise is really hard work.  I get down onto the hay box, and before I have time to explore it, it’s off onto the floor, checking up on everyone and everything.

roscoe

Everyone = Neville plus whoever’s been there with him.  It’s either Bertie or Biggles.  I have to check up on their scents, make sure they’re okay, not leaving any messages they shouldn’t.

Everything = all the nooks and crannies in the kitchen, making sure they are still there, nobody’s overwritten my messages that shouldn’t be there, looking to see whether Mam’s swept under the table, that sort of thing.  Inspection is an important part of work.  Quality control, it’s called.

We have pretty good quality here, even if Mam has gone overboard recently with the cleaning up bit.

The only rest I get is out in the garden. A bit of grass, then a good sleep, in the sun or the shade depending on what takes my fancy.  We’ve been getting out on the grass most days, unless Mam hasn’t got home till really late.  She did that three days in a row last week, but I let her off because we spent most of Saturday and Sunday in the garden.  There’s not much grass there, though.  It’s all dry.  Except the wee bits in the shade of the boards around the veggie patches, or up against the wall. Those are still worth nibbling.

Trouble is, Neville’s nibbled them all now.  Okay, I might have helped a bit.

Mam says we need rain.  She’s even started throwing water on the grass.  It needs more than that, I think, Mam.

Ah, well, hope it’s nice and sunny where you are.  I’m off for some rest.

Sometimes it’s hot and sometimes it’s not

Hello everybody, it’s Bertie here.

Some days last week were nice.  When Mummy got home she put us out in the garden in the runs and it was very nice.  She put the covers across the cages depending on how hot it was and how late it was.  Later the sun doesn’t seem quite so warm.

Nev and Ros in the shade of the fence

I had the middle run this week, between Roscoe & Neville near the fence, and Biggles nearest the path.  It was nice to see everybody but I find the sky a bit scary, so I rested in the tunnel or under my tent when there wasn’t anything else to do.

Bertie in tthe tunnel

The grass seems to be getting a bit dry.  I suppose I shouldn’t complain, but it is.  Mummy said the grass under the plum tree is very dry, even dryer than mine.  We didn’t go out yesterday because it was a ‘bit cool’ as Mummy says, and she brought us in some grass.  There wasn’t very much, and most of it was drying, but it was very tasty all the same.

Mummy says we need rain, but only at night.  I’m not sure that’s the way it works, Mummy.

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Neville and Roscoe

All change!

Hi there, Roscoe here.

Well, it’s been a very strange couple of weeks, and I can’t say I like all the changes.

First Percy was ill.  He was all wobbly for a day or so, and Mam took him with her when she went away for a couple of days.  When she came back Percy had gone over the Rainbow Bridge.  I can’t say I was surprised.  He’d been poorly underneath all his bravery.  He’d had this lump on his jawbone ever since we’d known him, and it wasn’t going to get better.  He was having medicine to help him feel okay, but he was fed up with it. Nice about it, mind, but still fed up.

Bertie misses him a lot, so does Mam. And we get through floor time ever so quick now.

Bertie hiding

Mam does us in a different order, now Bertie’s come down to live in a cage opposite us.  We hardly saw him that first week, he was so distressed.  Not sure whether it was losing Percy or being in a strange cage.  He started to come out of hisself after a few days.  He’s got a ledge he can sit on and see us better. I stand on the side of my cage and look right back.  I don’t get to chat with him on the floor, though.  Mam puts me down with Neville, just as right and proper, but Biggles and Bertie each have some time chatting to Neville too.  He’s says they’re nice boys. Not sure he knows what a nice boy is, mind.

Roscoe keeping an eye on Bertie

He’s been acting strange recently.  A lot of weeks now he’s been right antsy about me.  Tells me to mind my own business and stop playing with him, and then gets all cross with me.  I don’t know what’s come over him.  He used to be such a quiet, amiable chap.  If I said move over, he’d move over quiet as a lamb.  Now I have to assert my authority, like.  Then he argues.  What’s more, Mam and Biggles and Bertie all side with him. I can’t see it myself.  He’s getting to be a right pian to live with.  And anyway, how come Bertie and Biggles get a cage each and we have to share?  I asked Mam and she said it was better for me to share with Neville, more company.  I’d be lonely on my own, she said.

Yeah, right.  But he wouldn’t argue with me, would he?

Maybe he’s just upset with all the changes too.  He used to spend time chatting to Percy.  They all did.  I did too, when we were on the grass.  He was a lovely chap.

Roscoe
What’s over there?

Never mind.  I hope we go out for some more grass today.  I like grass.  That never changes.