Way-aye, Roscoe here again.
Someone asked why I say Way-aye. It’s a friendly greeting where I come from. You might say Hai, hi or hello. I say way-aye. So does Nev. Biggles says Hello, and so does Mam.
Hay! Is another greeting I suppose, but Mam says when it is, it’s usually spelt hey. No, I’m talking Hay, that wonderful stuff that makes up 80-90% of our diet, depending on whether we’re getting grass or not.
Hay is lovely stuff. Or should be. It should smell sweet, taste crunchy. It fills up our bellies, and helps us grind our teeth down. Our teeth grow all the time, so they need to be kept down. That’s why we eat all the time. Biggles takes breaks between his eating for more eating, we take breaks for sleep. I think Biggles eats in his sleep. Mam says I’m exaggerating, and get on with it.
We also sit on it, play with it, and enjoy it during our run time with hay-in-a-box!
When we moved here we tried a few different types of hay available locally, and also some Mam had brought down from Norfolk, which we liked best. But then she started getting it delivered from Haybox.
It comes in huge boxes, but small enough to store next to the armchair in the summerhouse. She gets two 5kg boxes delivered on subscription. Before Bertie died we got it every six weeks, and then we only needed it every eight weeks.
This weekend Mam was in a panic because she’d lost a box of hay. Well, the one we were using was running out and she only got it in early September. And we’re only just past early October. She wondered where the second box had gone, and then realised… With the two littlies each eating as much as one of us, and not going out on the grass so much, we’d eaten the whole of the second box in two weeks!
She sorted it out for an urgent delivery with the lovely Richard at Haybox, and it’ll be here tomorrow. She says we needn’t panic because we’ve got at least one week’s supply of hay that she made in the summer stored carefully away. She also said that when she had six pigs before she got through a 2kg bag a week, so she suppose with three cages to look after, and Locksley growing, 2kg a week now is about right, and she’s changed the order to every five weeks.
Lots of parcels arrived this week. There’s one that looks like a calendar and another that looks like a pillow that she’s put on our shelf. She said “those are for Christmas.” Oooh, presents! Pillows and calendars don’t sound that exciting, though.
So all’s well here, and Ludo ate his cucumber last night, when Mam put it in front of him in his snugglesack. Locksley took it from Mam’s hand, although he was still sitting in his tunnel at the time. And Locksley’s over 400 grams now.
And Mam keeps waking up late and giving us late breakfast. She says she’s gone onto GMT now it’s past the equinox, whatever that all means. Sigh. Mam.
See you next time