More grass please, Mummy!

Hi, Percy here.

percy

This week the sun was shining a lot, and some days Mummy brought us in some real grass from the garden.  It’s not long, and there’s not much of it, but it’s really nice.  Mummy says it’s far too cold for us to go out yet.  Although Roscoe told me that a few days Mummy has left the door ajar when she’s gone out and he didn’t think it was that cold.

My teeth seem to be working properly again, and Mummy’s very pleased with me.  I’m not sure my bottom is working properly, though.  Sometimes it feels a bit sore then Midge comes and asks what’s wrong and I tell him to go away.  Then Mummy asks what’s wrong and why are we bickering.  I think she thinks I might have something wrong, but doesn’t know what.  I suppose that means I’ll see Dr Sally soon.  Maybe it’s a good idea, but I prefer to be left to get on with things quietly on my own, really.

Neville & Roscoe with a bit of box

Roscoe’s very happy cos he’s off his meds, and even happier because he’s finishing up any of my special brew that I don’t drink in the mornings.  His scar is all healed with no more stuff underneath it, and his hair is growing back.  Neville’s teeth are growing too.  They are about three-quarter length, and Mummy says she needs to make sure the bottom ones don’t grow too long and upset the balance of his chewing.

And that’s the news from here, really.  It would have been Victor’s tenth birthday tomorrow if he’d still been here.  That’s ancient.

Victor waits
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A very exciting week

Roscoe here.  Glad to see you again.  I gather a few had a wee problem with the accent, like.  Sorry bout that, but Mam says she likes it.

This week was very exciting.  We had a birthday party for young Biggles and his brother Bertie.  You know I’m not right friendly with Bertie.  And Percy filled me in on events between Biggles and Bertie.  It sounds like Bertie’s as bad with his brother as he is with me.

Biggles first birthday cake

Anyhow, Biggles invited Neville and me to his party, which was on the floor in the living room.  That was different!  We don’t usually run around there.  There was a nice warm blanket with something crinkly underneath.  Mam says it’s a plastic tablecloth to protect her floor carpet. Oh, I get you 😉

I had fun exploring, and nosing around the things there, and I found some shiny things up at the side, apparently they spelled out summat, but I don’t read long words too well, especially when the letters are twice the size of meself.  Neville discovered the birthday cake and spent nearly all his time there.  Well, it was nice, and I did have some. Just not that much. Biggles was a bit shy of it too.  He had a good rumble at me instead.

I gather the others had a second party with a separate birthday cake which Midge spent most of his time eating.  Midge and Neville – I wonder what they’d do if they lived together?!

Neville’s teeth are growing along okay.  Mam took more photos this weekend to show you how they go, week on week.  Neville hasn’t lost any weight, mind.

And my lump has finally gone away (touch wood, Mam says), and I’ve finished one of the antibiotics and Mam says I can finish the other on Thursday.  Of course it’s the horrid tasting one that lasts longer.  I cannot wait for Thursday.

Have a nice week!

Neville & Roscoe with a bit of box

I’m still here!

Hi, Percy here.  I’m very pleased to report that I’m still with you.  Mummy has been giving me Metacam twice every day, and my lump has gone down enough for me to straighten my jaw and eat more or less properly.

I’m not surprised Mummy was really worried about me, though, I felt really poorly after that night I had with the twitches.  It felt most peculiar and I was worn out and feeling very uncomfortable.  But I’m over that now, and happy to be organising a birthday party for Wednesday! More of that next week.

Roscoe’s scar is nearly healed.  It’s taken a bit longer because he had a funny bug in it that needed a different antibiotic.  So he’s been on two types of antibiotic for over a week now, and seems to be getting better.  Fingers crossed.  He went for a check up last Thursday and Mummy took Neville with him.  Neville had incredibly dirty ears. It was like black soot in them. Mummy said she wasn’t sure whether the dirt went all the way down, so she wanted Dr Sally to look at them.

Well, according to Roscoe, when Dr Sally put a thing in his ear to look down, Neville didn’t like that at all, and shot backwards out of Mummy’s hands and slipped down between the table and Mummy’s body.  Mummy tried to catch him but all she could grab was a lot of hair!  Eventually Neville got onto the floor, and Mummy could pick him up and check him over.  He didn’t have any bones broken or hurt, but he did have a sore lip and his top incisors were wobbly. He and Roscoe both had a run around on Dr Sally’s floor just to check he was moving okay, too. Mummy is terribly worried that Auntie Layla will think she’s a bad Mummy, but she isn’t, she just wanted to check Neville’s hearing was okay, and Neville didn’t want it checked.

Anyway, Roscoe says Neville is eating fine even though his front teeth have now broken off at the gum.  Mummy took a photo of Gummy, as we now call Neville, and we expect he’ll grow some new ones in a week or two.  Meanwhile he’s getting some of his food cut up in strips like I have mine, but apparently he’s fine at picking up hay and munching bits of lettuce and stuff.  He hasn’t lost any weight yet, anyway, and he’s a tubby boy, just like Dougall was.

Sometimes I wonder how Mummy keeps track of all the meds we have, but I noticed that she has a black board with white writing on it, and our names are there, with long words and some figures after them.  I expect that’s our meds list, as none of the others are on it except Roscoe and me. Neville had some of my metacam for the first couple of days after he did his teeth, but he’s stopped now.

So, it’s been very busy here this week.  The good news is we had special hay with carrots and herby bits in it.  We also had a little grass from the garden. I like both of those. More please, Mummy!

 

roscoe neville and grassy box

Our Christmas Box

Way-aye. Roscoe here. And I’m to reassure you that Percy is fine, he’s lookin’ bonny, and he’ll probably be back here next week.

Roscoe with parsley

I have to introduce you to me and my mate Neville. I think me Mam told you all about us last August, so I’d be repeatin’ myself like, or Percy, or the like, so I’ll give you a quick rundown.

I was all happy enough in me home up on Tyneside and Neville and I had been together a while. I don’t right remember when he arrive, to tell the truth, but we’d been okay in our cage for a good while. Then one day our family left. It was all quiet for a day or so, then the landlord came in to check the house, and found us there. He was very nice about it, and gave us food whenever he visited, which was often, until Auntie Layla had room for us. Then we went to stay with her and the kiddies and all the other guineas there. We had a nice summer, lots of grass time, and then we were all neatened up and told we were going on a journey.

Well, that was a long journey!  Very comfy, mind, but still a long way. Two trains, changing boxes in Newcastle station, then a couple of hours later we got into a car and two more hours till we arrived with Mam and the boyos here.

roscoe neville 1
Roscoe and Neville arrive

And you know the rest because you’ve seen the film and you’ve probably got the tee-shirt.

We’ve been havin’ a neat time here. We like our cage and enjoyed the grass time. Then Christmas arrived. It’s kind of a big deal here, with photos with the santa hats and all.

Roscoe prefers Neville's hat
Roscoe fancies Neville’s hat

Then we got our Christmas present.

It’s a lovely box with grass on the outside and grass and hay and lovely herby things on the inside. Oh yes, we got that super furry tunnel, too. We like that.

roscoe neville and grassy box
Roscoe loves the grassy box

At least it was a nice box. Mam’s going to put the photos up for me to show you the lifecycle of the grassy box.  There’s just a wee bitty bit left of it now, but it’s been great fun, I can tell you. If you ever want to buy your guinea pig a great gift, I recommend it.

Neville & Roscoe with a bit of box

That’s all from me this week. Enjoy yourself, won’t you.

Percy pig in the hay box

My Grand Day Out

PercyPercy here. With lump.

Mummy took me out for the day in the car on Friday. We went a very long way, then we stopped for a short while and then Mummy came back and had a cup of coffee.  Then we went on to see Dr Simon in Northampton at the Cat and Rabbit Care Clinic (but they like guinea pigs too).  The was a cat in Reception when we arrived, and a rabbit came out of the vet’s room before we went in to see him.

Dr Simon was very nice. He gave me a cuddle, called me ‘sweetie’ and examined my lump and my teeth. He moved my bottom jaw around to see if I could line my incisors up, which I can, but it takes work, so I leave it a bit sideways if I’m not actually eating something.  He and Mummy talked about my lump while he did that.

Then he took me into another room and wrapped me up to give me a tooth checkover, just like Uncle Barry does.  He told me my teeth were good, he just had to smooth off the outsides of the top ones as a bit of a preventative.  Then we went back to Mummy and he told her what he had done.  Mummy asked lots of questions about eating and stuff.  She seemed content with his answers.  I went back into my box to rest again while they talked.

Then I came home again, and it was still a long way.  We stopped again.  Oh I forgot to say, I think Mummy has a friend in the car but I never saw her.  She started saying things to Mummy after the first stop, when we were on our way to Dr Simon.  Then she stopped talking when we got near Kings Lynn on the way home.  I ignored her at first, but then I discovered she mainly said odd things like “Enter the roundabout and take the second exit.”  When she said that the car would do one of those triple sways, so I started to get used to the warning and the sways. I don’t know where she went after Kings Lynn.  I don’t remember Mummy stopping again to let her out. I spent most of the journey underneath my bed, because that made the noise quieter.

Mummy’s giving me Metacam twice a day now, but otherwise nothing’s changed. Dr Simon told her that Metacam seems to have an inhibiting effect on sarcomas. I’m sure that’s what he said, because I was listening hard, in case Mummy didn’t remember.  But she obviously did because she gave me some Metacam as soon as I got home, along with another slice of cucumber.

I must admit, although I was tired after my day out, I felt good on Saturday.  Until the evening.  Then I started feeling really weird and my body starting twitching.  Mummy was worried about me, and took me out for a cuddle, which felt good and I relaxed, but then the twitching started again. It went on half the night, and I was very tired in the morning, but Mummy was pleased to see I was okay, sort of.  She thinks I might have had a funny turn, probably linked to my lump – which seems to have grown AGAIN.  He’s a picture of me on Sunday morning.  My lower jaw is even further over, and I’m drooping a bit.  That lump is getting heavy.

In fact, I’m not feeling too well this morning. I hope you’re okay today.

Update on Roscoe: he’s doing okay.  His scar is a bit swollen at each end, but Mummy’s treating it just like Dr Sally said. Otherwise he looks fine, and the hair’s growing back.

Bertie

Temper Tantrum

It’s not my fault!  I had nothing to do with it.  I was nowhere near Roscoe when he got into a fight.  I had nothing to do with it.  It wasn’t my fault he put his neck between somebody’s teeth.  It was dark.  Why do you always pick on me? Just because I’m the youngest! I’m not going to play anymore.  I don’t want to do it.

Intermission

Percy here: Sorry.  Our little tearaway is just suffering from hormone-fuelled guilt, I think. He’s now been grounded until he can be more polite to you all.  I think we need somebody from Downstairs to do some blogging, anyway.  Let me introduce you to Roscoe, who is sporting a very dashing scar on the right side of his cheek and neck.

Hello Roscoe!

Roscoe with parsley

Way-aye, this is Roscoe here.  Some people say my accent can be a little hard to follow, but I’m sure we’ll be fine. I see young Bertie has had a wobbler up there, well, I wouldn’t call it good manners what he did, but now I’m all fixed up, like, so no harm done.

I’d like to thank Auntie Dawn, who I’ve not met yet, for her good idea about the ladies finding scars attractive.  Wor mam says it’ll probably be fine once my lovely long hair grows back, and I hope it does soon, ‘cos its a little chilly around the front end, if you know what I mean?  Dr Sally said she’d had to make a bigger hole than usual, because the lump had got so big.  At least, she said that when she was talking to wor mam afterwards, when mam came to tek me home.  I was pleased as punch to go home, I can tell you. It was nice enough there in hospital, but I like me home, and I suspect that young Neville was missing me.

So, I hope Percy invites me back to talk to you some more. Cheerio till next time.

Roscoe xxx