Hiya, Roscoe here, talking from the lofty heights of upstairs.

Mam said something to us on Friday night about ‘moving upstairs’ and Saturday, after our cuddles and runaround on the kitchen floor, she took us upstairs.  I’ve never been upstairs before.  One or two stairs, yes, but not a whole level up to the rooms above, where Mam works during the day.

Bertie got terribly excited, and started popcorning around when he arrived (he was last, because Biggles went first, we went next, and he went after).  He’s back in his old home, he said.  I must admit, it’s a canny place.  We’ve got more space, and an extra tunnel and bed, but we haven’t got our fiddlesticks.  We also haven’t got the blue snugglesac, but Mam said she’s washing it in special stuff to see if she can get the hard bits out. Apparently we’re not supposed to wee in the soft furnishings.  Bit late to tell us that, Mam.

Biggles is in a loft area of his own.  It’s not as big as Bertie’s run, which is a tad smaller than ours, but Mam says she’s putting in an extension next week.

Our new set-up

Biggles

Bertie wants to talk to me

This is us all on our first day upstairs.

When we went down for our cuddles yesterday morning there was no sign of our cages.  Mam said she’d had a tidy up to make it look smarter for visitors.  I reckon it had something to do with that man in a suit who came to visit on Friday. I got to meet him, because I need to know who’s there, you know.  He was very polite and scratched my ear and said I was bonny.  Well, he didn’t say ‘bonny’ but that’s what he meant.  Obviously a man who knows what’s what.

We also had cake yesterday.  It was because it was the anniversary of Fred’s passing, seven years ago, and seven is a special number.  This was Fred with Auntie Dawn, a couple of weeks before he decided to go and join his brother. He looks like a bonny chap too.