All By Myself… again

Way-aye, Roscoe here again.

That Bertie told you the news last week: I’m all by myself again.

To tell the truth, it’s not bad. I can sit beside Neville’s run, and chew on the bars a bit if I want a chat. Most times he comes over. Sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he comes and sits by the bars when I’m doing something else, so if I’m too busy I ignore him.

I noticed yesterday, no Saturday, he and Biggles got a clean underpad. Normally we get an underpad and new fleece at the same time, about every five days, although Mam does change those disposable pads more often. I wonder if Mam’s realised that it’s Neville who’s been weeing a lot, not me. I know she took us both to see Dr Sally after Christmas, because she was worried one of us had something the matter, but Dr Sally couldn’t see anything obvious. I quite like seeing Dr Sally. After she’s had a good feel of my tummy, which is a bit uncomfortable sometimes, she gives me a cuddle, which makes up for it.

So anyway, Mam’s worked out what needs doing, my feet are getting better because I keep my fleece drier, and Biggles and Neville are getting to stay drier with the extra pad change.

Bertie’s his usual self. Although Mam’s a bit disappointed with him, as he’s taken to nipping her cheek when he’s on her shoulder at cucumber time, if he wants more or wants to go for a run. She told him off severely yesterday. A lot of good that’ll do, Mam!

We’re waiting to find out if we’re going to Hampshire next weekend. Mam wants to go, but if she’s going for a few nights she’ll take us with her and have a little holiday too. Or do some decorating. She says the wifi should be working on Saturday, so we might be able to blog.

Bertie was all worried we wouldn’t be able to blog and remind you it’s his birthday the following Friday. Biggles and Bertie will be THREE years old. Doesn’t time fly? Mam thinks I’m five now, and Neville four, but Neville might be the same as me, she doesn’t know. Neither do I, I never thought age was important.

Anyway, Mam says we’ll be back here for a birthday party that weekend, so there’ll be pictures next time I blog ūüôā

See you then, have a good week. January is nearly over, and the afternoons stay lighter longer. Mam didn’t put our light on till 4 pm yesterday!

Roscoe

xxx

They're making a hole in our wall!

Way-aye, Roscoe here.

Mam seemed excited when she came back from travelling last week. She was only away two nights so we stayed here, with lots and lots of hay and nibbles. The second day I found a carrot cunningly hidden right at the bottom of our hay pile. It was still fresh, too! It didn’t last long, mind.

It’s very peaceful when Mam’s away. I can laze about on the bed, or ont he other pile of hay, or curl up in the tunnel, or in the dark corer in the run. Sometimes I curl up by a food bowl, all the better to just reach out and nibble a bit when I get the night pangs. Neville’s generally very civilised about giving up these places when I want to use them.

Mam said that this week will be when the worst of the banging will be in our new house. They are making a hole in the wall so we can have glass doors put in, like we have in the kitchen extension now.

There will be some more banging on the roof some time, and smells when they put the new tiles down with a sticky compound, or so she expects. But if they aren’t doing either of those we’ll be able to go down with her. She’s not taking us down this week because of the banging, and because it shouldn’t take more than a day. If she’s going to have to be away another night, she’ll ask one of our Aunties to nip in and give us more hay and food. I wonder who it’ll be?

She says that once the floor is finished we should be able to move in down there. She’s already taken our big cages down, not the holiday cages but the ones we lived in downstairs.

It’ll all depend on how much packing up she’s got to do here. But basically we’ll switch from being mostly here except when we go there for four or more days, to being mostly there unless Mam needs to be back here for four or more days.

I’m glad Mam’s counting these things in threes and fours. Those are easy numbers for guinea pigs to count. Seven works well too. Any other number gets complicated.

I wonder how big the hole in the wall will be and whether we’ll be allowed to go through it?

More news next time

Roscoe

xxxx

Roscoe rests after his run

Happy New Year

It’s been a very confusing week. Mummy asked why we hadn’t posted on Monday. I said, ‘when is Monday?’ I’m Roscoe, of course.

So Bertie said ‘we’re doing a post on Wednesday’.

That’s today – New Year’s Day! The start of 2020. And by my reckoning, not the start of a new decade, ‘cos that can’t happen until the end of 2020. Ten is the end of a decade, not the start of one. Eleven is the start of a new decade. Apparently silly humans are arguing about it because 20 starts with 2.

Bertie suggested we have new year’s resolutions.

Bertie: I will eat all my pellets up by morning. (No change there then)

Biggles: I will get more exercise. (That would be good for you, Biggles, and I encourage you in that.)

Neville: Is still thinking about it. Not that he’s slow, he just wants to make it something worth doing.

Me: I will try not to push Neville around so much, but that rather depends on whether Bertie gets me all riled up during floor time.

Roscoe and Neville get grass
Roscoe and Neville get fresh grass

I expect you want to know what we got for Christmas. Nev and I got a new grassy tunnel, which is lovely and chewy. There’s also a bundle of grassy sticks, which we havent tried yet.

Biggles got a grassy box which he’s enjoying a lot. He makes the same noise chewing it as we do with our grassy tunnel.

Bertie got a grassy bundle of sticks. He doesn’t think much of it.

I asked the others whether we should get Mam to make some new year resolutions. Nev said we should suggest some for her, so here goes.

Mam should spend more time running around the house and less time at the computer. (me)

Mummy should eat more lettuce and cucumber instead of giving it all to us. (Bertie)

Mummy should spend more time cuddling me. (Biggles)

Mam should do all the things she needs to do to move house without worrying about us. (Neville)

I suppose Nev’s got it right there. We know Mam will think of us but she shouldn’t worry about us. We’ll just go along with whatever 2020 brings.

I hope you have a nice year, and manage to cope with whatever happens.

Love from all of us.

Bertie, Biggles, Neville and me, Roscoe

xxxxxxxx

We may be on holiday next week

Way-aye, Roscoe here.

Mam says we may be going on holiday to Hampshire next week. ¬†I was just having thoughts of that nice room with the warm floor, where Mam makes her food and ours in our sight, and then she’ll be sitting on the sofa and watching us. ¬†And maybe Aunties and Uncles coming to cuddle us.

Then she said we’re not going to that place.

If we go, and it’s not certain yet, we’ll be going to a new house, with no furniture in it. It’ll have carpet on the floor, and it’ll be heated, and have lights, and a kitchen and a bathroom, but nothing else. ¬†That sounds a bit strange to me, so I gave her a funny look. ¬†She just winked at me and didn’t tell me any more.

She’s been out a lot last week. ¬†Sometimes she says she has to catch the bus into the city, and sometimes she’s gone way before breakfast time and come back after cucumber time. ¬†She’s left us plenty of food each time, so don’t get the idea I’m complaining, ‘cos I’m not. ¬†I’m just saying. ¬†Well, actually, she gave us breakfast and hay but no pellets on Thursday. That was the day she went to Hampshire and back and why she went so early and came back late. ¬†But she went by train, so she could read a book. I told you Mam was sensible most of the time. She gave us our pellets at cucumber time.

Apparently we’ve got to get ready for Christmas as well.¬†But if we go on holiday next week we may not have internet, and so we won’t be able to blog, or get ready for Christmas, or anything.

It’s all very mysterious, but Mam seems excited.

Till next time, whenever or wherever that is…

Roscoe xxx

This is where she gets ideas from

Way-aye, Roscoe here again.

We were all alone Saturday and half of Sunday while Mam went out enjoying herself. She left us well supplied, mind, even hiding a stalk of broccoli in our hay piles for each of us. ¬†We found them all too soon, but it was a nice thought, and we kept teasing Biggles because he hadn’t found it first. ¬†Apparently she got a big bag of broccoli stalks from Mr Tesco because silly people break long stalks short, not realising how delicious they are. ¬†Mr Tesco has to throw them away unless someone like Mummy asks if she can take them for the animals. ¬†She sometimes uses the word ‘rescued’ too.

Anyhow, we had a peaceful Saturday and Sunday. ¬†She came home around midday and we went into our usual morning routine; cuddle, cucumber, runtime, clean cages and breakfast. ¬†We had super-clean cages with fresh hay and some of us had our tunnels and beds missing. ¬†They didn’t come back until nearly bedtime, and they were lovely and warm, as well as clean and dry.

The downside was we all had stuff tickled onto our skin behind our ears. ¬†We’re used to this, and I think Mam was impressed how we all stayed still waiting for her to finish, and presented the right ear at the right time. ¬†It’s something to make the itches disappear. ¬† ¬†Apparently she saw Uncle Bob and Auntie Doris when she was out, and discussed Biggles’ touchy spots and my bitey spots. So Mam took action as soon as she got home. This is where she gets her ideas from. ¬†She shouldn’t go meeting people, really.

Roscoe with Ivomectin behind his ears

Mam said she also saw Auntie Kate and Auntie Julie. ¬†They all got together because Auntie Kate was doing something very special called a wedding. ¬†Oh, and Auntie Meggy and Mr M were there too, but I don’t know about them. ¬†Apparently Kevin and Colman knew all the people I’ve been talking about. ¬†We’ve only met Auntie Doris and Uncle Bob. You’ve seen the pictures but I’ll show you again in the picture at the top of the page. ¬†Mam said there weren’t any guinea pigs at the wedding, but a dog called Dexter held the rings for them, whatever that means.

So, that was all the news for this week. ¬†Except that a lot of the boxes Mam’s been packing up have disappeared. She says they were nearly all books, and they’ve gone to new homes. ¬†There’s a bit more room in our room, though.

See you next time

Roscoe xx

cucumber time

Mam makes me nervous, but she knows it now

Way-aye, Roscoe here.

Mam’s being doing lots of things that make me nervous, but she’s worked out that I’ve seen it before and I remember what happened. She’s promised me she’s never going to give me up or let me down, although she might go away for a few nights at a time. She says she might even take me and the others to a strange house and leave us for a couple of nights, but only so she can bring the rest of the house contents back with her.

So yesterday, when she was laying small piles of paper on the floor, and putting some of them in some things called files, I watched her, but didn’t worry. She put ¬†other things in envelopes and put them in a box which lives underneath my run. ¬†Who knew she kept things other than the pop-up tents underneath my run? She keeps one of our carry-boxes underneath Biggles’ run, and another box, and the¬†spare paper and pads for under our fleeces. But I never gave any thought to anything else she keeps underneath us.

She made a lot of noise when she was doing this (and she’s started doing it again today). Sometimes she’d rip some paper in half and throw it in the box for waste paper. Sometimes she’d rip it in lots of pieces. One time she took some over to our waste hay bag, the one that she shakes our fleeces into when she changes them, and tore several things into strips and put it in among the hay. She says that bag goes to compost, and it’s the safest place to send those pieces of paper so nobody else will ever know what they said.

It all sounds very complicated to me, but then, Mam is a complicated person.

Bertie’s quite complicated, too. He’s been having his foot soaked, rinsed and creamed twice a day for the last week. Mam and Dr Sally don’t know what’s wrong with it, although Mam wonders if he stood on a thorn and got an infection in it. Apparently it’s not something called bumblefoot, although they are treating it the same way to stop any infection spreading. Bertie seems quite happy. He says it’s no trouble standing in the brown water for a while, and Mummy tickles his chin while she’s holding him. The brown water’s a bit smelly though. Fortunately, the rinsing and the cream take the smell away.

I hoped Mam would take a photo of him standing in his brown water, but she says she hasn’t got enough hands to do that.

You can’t get the staff, can you?

Ta-ta till next time,

Roscoe

PS Did Bertie tell you Mam spent one day putting all the vet bills she’s ever had in one file? She said it brought back memories. I wonder if she’s going to add up how much each pig cost in vet bills? I hope it isn’t me.