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.


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

roscoe and neville with their new things

Happy new year!

We got Christmas presents!


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

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.



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?


Things that go bump in the night

Hello.  Bertie here.  I’ve been very good this week.  I’m always good, of course. Sometimes Mummy interprets my behaviour differently from me.  She says I’m growing up.

Apart from Oscar, who’s insufferable, I don’t argue with anyone any more.  Midge and Percy seem to be okay with me checking up on them every now and then.  Mummy laughs because I use the same hand signals as Percy.  Well, of course I do, I asked him how to tell Mummy I was ready to go for a run when I’d had my cucumber. He told me to leap up onto her coat and pat the corner where her arm joins her body.  Now I do that and she knows it’s time for my run.  It works!

Usually the morning is the most exciting time of our day.  This week it’s been the evening, after it gets dark.  There have been lots of bumps and bangs every day.  On two nights we had a series of noises going bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.  Very deliberately and evenly.  I said to Percy I wished they’d stop.  He said he wished they’d stop as well.  Then they stopped.  They started again later.  There have been other bangs and noises too.  Mummy says its fireworks, there’s nothing to worry about, and she wishes they would just stop.  We get fireworks sounds from the hotel at the end of the village every Saturday and most Thursdays.  So we know by now they’re nothing to worry about.  But these were closer, and earlier in the evening.  Percy says he remembers them from this time last year.  We just have to put up with it for about ten days.  Mummy gets very cross about it, though.

So, that’s what’s been going on this week. Except that Midge lost a lot of weight this week, a whole 100 grams. Mummy’s taking him to see Auntie Shirley and Uncle Barry in a few days time. She says he’s nearly down to a normal weight for a guinea pig, so there’s nothing to worry about.  She thinks it’s his teeth, because he had so much gungy food in his mouth she couldn’t see them. That makes sense, sort of.


Midge, Percy & Bertie floor time

I’ve been mistreated!

Bertie here.  I’ve had a terrible time this week. Okay, we went out on the grass for a couple of hours earlier in the week, but then it all changed.

And I mean CHANGED.

One day I was down having floor time in the kitchen like normal, and I came back to find my cage had gone! The bottom part was empty, well with white pads lying all over it, and none of my things.  Mummy put me in my loft – and the ramp had gone!  There was a panel across the top where I usually stand and watch her.  I found another ramp on the other side, but it was steeper and the wrong colour.  I couldn’t bear to go down it.  Besides, I didn’t know where it led.

After a bit Mummy picked me up and put me down a level.  Well, she tried to push me towards the ramp tunnel first, but I wasn’t having any of that. So she put me downstairs with Midge!  Well, that was a surprise.  I like teasing Midge.  We chatted a bit, and he grumbled a bit about having me mess up his nice clean cage. We don’t usually have clean cages midweek. After a while I went back upstairs to have a snooze in my tent.

Percy picks some grass

Later Mummy came back so I came down again. She put Percy in my other run, the one she’d covered with white stuff.  I didn’t see much of Percy. He hid in the zebra snugglesac, which smelled funny. Then Midge got all antsy about me being there, and told me off.  And I told him off, because Mummy had given me the ramp so she must mean me to use it.  And he said nobody asked him, and I said something else, and anyway we got into a bit of a fight.

Mummy took me out and put me in my loft.  She took the ramp away and put the other panel across.  So I was all caged in and in a tiny run.  I tell you, it’s mistreatment and somebody ought to pay for it!

I went out on the kitchen floor the next morning.  Percy didn’t come down. He was wobbling around my his cage like he was drunk or something.  He spent most of his time in his zebra sac or his tartan tunnel. Mummy took him downstairs on his own a few times, well lots of times. She brought us up some nice things sometimes, grass and things called clover. I had another run on the kitchen floor that afternoon, too.  That’s new.  The next day (Friday) was much the same, but Percy was more himself, walking around better.  He was eating hay and food too.  I thought I might get his leftovers like we had the night before, but no.

Saturday all went back to normal.  Mummy cleaned both parts of my run out and put my proper ramp back.  Percy went back to Midge.  They bickered a lot.  Midge was jealous that Percy had special treatment.  Percy says it’s very painful and you have to eat horrid tasting foods. He’s still got his lump.  You can see how big it is because his hair’s been cut off.  There’s a funny line across the lump; it looks like it’s been joined together somehow.  Percy says he’s had an operation but Dr Sally couldn’t get the lump out, so he’s keeping it. Well, if it’s his, why not?

Percy and his lump

So all is back to normal, Percy’s keeping his lump, and Mummy says Percy’s hair will grow back pretty soon. It’s not very pretty, though.  And I was only mistreated for three nights, shut up in a 2×2 cage.

Mummy says I should think myself lucky, I might have had to go in the 100 cage on a floor somewhere without any of my things.  That’s not nearly as nice.

Oh, all right then.

Percy seems all right to me. He hasn’t changed since Saturday.