Why is Mummy out so much?

Hello, Bertie here.

Today I will ask a question I’ve been thinking about for ages.

Why does mummy spend so much time away from home?

We only spend a little time each day out of our houses, and then sometimes a nice long time in the garden, like we did on Sunday.

But last week, Mummy spent most of every day out of the house, and sometimes she didn’t come home until it was dark, as well.

Percy says that sometimes she wears golf uniform, and sometimes just ordinary golf clothes.  If she’s in uniform it means she’ll probably be out longer.  He doesn’t know why but thinks it’s a more formal occasion.

Well, if that’s true there are far too many of them.  She should stop, immediately.

I bet she won’t take any notice of me, though.

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Percy’s still sad and his lump’s back

Hello everybody, it’s Bertie here.  I’m back!

Percy didn’t feel like blogging today.  He’s okay, he’s eating, which he wasn’t at the start of last week.  Mummy is much happier about him.  He’s on morning and evening meds because his lump has come back.  It’s moved though.  It’s now behind his jaw.  I can’t tell the difference but Percy says he can.  Mummy can feel it too.

We miss Midge. He was fun to live next door to, because I could tease him.  Percy’s not so easy to tease.  Mummy says I shouldn’t tease anyway because he’s not well. But Percy’s missing Midge, even though they did a lot of bickering recently.  Percy says Midge probably wasn’t well and we didn’t realise.  Okay.

We haven’t been out in the garden this week.  Mummy says it’s been cold and wet.  But it was sunny one day when we had visitors.  Mummy was pleased because it helped the house and garden look nice. Mummy’s been clearing all the boxes from our room, and tidying up her desk and our things.  It looks pretty good now, I can tell you.

Apart from that, I’m looking forward to going outside again, because I like the feel of real grass on my feet. The birds all sing at us too, and tell us off if there’s something they want in our run. A squirrel came and swung on the tube that hangs on a post nearby.  She was nearly as big as us, but had a long bushy tail.  I thought it was very clever the way she used her hands to take the pellets from the tube.  I just eat mine with my mouth, which she did too, but she also put her hand in the hole and pulled out some to put in her mouth.  Maybe I should try that.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Apparently today’s the anniversary of the Great Escape from Jersey.  Percy says Kevin used to talk about it.  He came with Colman to live here and a lot of other piggies went all over the place.  I think someone still lives with Auntie Doris and Uncle Bob.  Here’s a photo of Kevin and Colman when Col was getting old.

Kevin with Colman

And here they are on the day they arrived here.  Percy has that white and red thing in his cage with him at present.  It’s to keep him company.

Colman and Kevin 30.4.12
Colman and Kevin April 30 2012
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

Bertie at the parsley

There’s something going on

I don’t know what’s going on, but there are many strange things happening.

Take this blog.  It’s changed colour.  It’s snowing (it snowed on Thursday, too). There are pictures of people I’ve never met at the top of the front page, and in the slideshow (although Kevin, Midge, Oscar and Percy are in there too).  There are funny sparkly things and even funnier hats.

I saw Mummy in one of those hats yesterday when she went out to the golf club.  She says she must find time to take our Christmas pictures.  I don’t know what Christmas means, but it’s something to do with hat pictures.  I gather that Colman didn’t like wearing a hat.

colman throws off hat
Colman

I don’t know what it feels like to wear a hat.  I don’t need different clothes, not like Mummy does.  She has a nice padded brightly coloured thing that she wears for golf, and likes so much she wears it in here if it’s a little cooler than normal.  It’s a similar colour to the background of the picture of the seven piggies above, but deeper.  Mummy says it’s called turquoise.  She also told me she’s bought a second one in bright yellow to wear when it’s foggy or darkish.

There are many times I don’t understand Mummy.  If I see a hat, I’ll let you know.

 

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Bertie in arms

I’m a big boy now!

It’s official.  I’m a big boy now.  I’m 1.3 kg and I take up all of Mummy’s arm when she’s carrying me around. I’m almost as big as Percy.

Bertie in arms

It happened quite slowly.  I mean it wasn’t, one day I’m small and the next day I’m big.  But now I’m big, and Mummy asked if I was going to keep growing or stop.  I don’t know, Mummy.

Percy and Bertie love zebras

I don’t think I’ll get as big as Midge.  Midge is huge.  He likes sleeping most of all, and Mummy often tries to take photos of him without him waking up.  She thinks she managed it with this one.  It’s not very flattering for Midge, but it does show off all his biggest bits.

Midge sleeping

I still run up and down my ramp, though.  I’m not too big to do that.  Mummy says that I should keep doing that until I get old.  I asked how old, and she said Colman stopped when his joints got creaky.  But she managed to make it so Kevin could still go up and down even when his joints got creaky, so there’s no reason I can’t go up and down forever.  Mummy talks forever sometimes.  You just have to listen and put up with it.

Percy wondered whether we should get one of the downstairs boys to blog.  I don’t know if that means he wants to stop.  Maybe he wants me to stop.  It would make sense to have a view from the kitchen.  Percy and I live next door to each other, after all.  Percy is looking very well.  His lump looks like it has disappeared.  Percy says it isn’t as large as it was, and he’s perfectly happy about that.  I think Mummy is too.

So Midge is fine, Percy’s fine, and I’m a big boy now.  That’s good, isn’t it?

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