Mummy’s taken our runs in :(

Mummy took our run panels down at the weekend, even though it was sunny outside.  She said it was just too wet for us, due to the heavy dew, and lack of sun on the grass.  I know what she means: the last few times there’s been sun in the sky but not shining where we are.  It was okay, but if the grass is wet then I want to stay in my tent.  Or the tunnel.

So that’s it for this year.  Maybe we’ll get out on the grass in March.  Mummy says we do some years, but this year it was cold and wet right through till early May.  It’s something to do with climate change changing things around.

Selfie with Mummy

I saw Roscoe told you he and Neville had baths.  I didn’t have a bath then but I had my tummy washed this week.  Just my tummy.  I’d got it all sticky during the night.  Mummy didn’t ask questions, she just stood me on the side of the big white sink, put water and soap on my tummy and rubbed it so it all went bubbly, and then held me so the water ran over my tummy to wash it clean again.  Then she wrapped me in a light towel, and we went and had our normal cuddles.

Apparently Auntie Shirley and Uncle Barry are coming to see us on Tuesday.  That’s tomorrow.  I expect they’ll look at our teeth too.  I like Auntie Shirley and Uncle Barry but I wish they wouldn’t make us show them our back teeth.  Mummy says it\s better than having to go to the vet for teeth work.  She thinks Biggles may need some work on his.  Mine will be perfect, of course.

 

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Late night grass time

I don’t like to complain, but Mummy keeps going out in the afternoon and it’s nearly dark, or even really dark, when she comes back.

A couple of nights last week she came back when the sun was in the sky, but not in the garden, not even in Roscoe & Neville’s run.  We were all pleased she put us out on the grass for a little while, but really, it was just a little while.  Then at the weekend it rained.  Well, Saturday it rained, and Sunday before Mummy went out she dried the grass for us with the towel, and said it might be dry enough when she came back, but she doubted it.

Well, don’t you know, but she was right.  Or so she said.  I’m supposed to believe Mummy when she says things like that, but it was still sunny out, so why wasn’t it dry enough.

Well, I suppose at least we got a little bit of late night grass time last week. There won’t be much more of it, Mummy says.  The leaves are starting to cover up the grass, so I suppose that means it’s going to be winter soon.  I hate winter.

Then again, after winter comes spring.

Grass, lovely, lovely grass

Bertie asked me what I was going to talk about today.  I told him ‘grass’.

‘Why?’ he asked.

‘Because autumn’s coming,’ I said.  That confused him.

I know autumn’s coming because the days are getting shorter, Mam’s coming downstairs for cuddles and breakfast closer to sunrise, and we get cucumber in the dark in the evening. I explained that to him and he wandered off.

Now, you might notice there – Bertie and I had a conversation. He’s suddenly started being sociable.  As in, ‘hello, would you like to chat?’ not ‘I’m in charge SO THERE!’

It’s taken me a wee while to accept he means it.  I mean, we’ve had some serious fights.  I say hello, he bites me.  That sort of conversation.

But now, we’re out on the grass with just the run panel between us, and we’re chatting.  He even comes out in the morning and chats to Neville while I get my cuddle.  And walks away when I come down (mind you, Mam is holding his tent for him to walk into.)  He’s a changed pig.  Although I’ll wait a while longer before I trust him, mind.

And yes, we’re out on the grass – a little earlier in the afternoon if Mam has been out to dry it off in the morning.  The sun isn’t out for long and the shade comes over quickly enough, but it’s been nice and warm.  Very pleasant, in fact.  And the grass…

Well, the grass is delicious.  But we won’t be having it much longer…

See you next time.

Roscoe xx

We have grass! (well, just a little)

Hey! We’ve got some grass.  Mam says it’s because it rained last weekend.  There’s not much, just enough to make an odd-shaped run for one piggy group at a time.

I say ‘piggy-group’ because nobody wants to play with Bertie.  Oh, well, Neville says he doesn’t mind playing with Bertie, not too much, anyway.  But Biggles plays with Neville, no trouble.  I think that’s a bit of cheek, because Neville is my cagemate. So if I see Biggles I tell him to leave Neville alone, okay? And then Mam makes sure we aren’t together any longer than absolutely necessary.

Anyway, we have grass, and it’s in the shade, and Mam has been sitting out there at her table watching over us and reading her book-thing.  That’s because we get the cat coming into the garden, and into our house, and generally making a nuisance of itself.  It came in when Bertie was out on the kitchen floor the other day.  Bertie was terrified.  Mam was really angry.  Not at Bertie, at the cat.  We’re getting used to her rushing past us, to get out of the doorway and hiss at the cat.  She tried taking a jug of water with her one time, but apparently it got away.  I’m not sure what she was going to do with the water, but still.

Talking of water, we had baths on Sunday.  We look gorgeous now.  She told us so.  She didn’t take photos though – she was too busy with golf stuff.

Till next time.

Roscoe

Bertie in tthe tunnel

There’s no grass left

Hello it’s Bertie here.

I don’t know what’s going on.  There’s no grass left where Mummy puts us out in the evening for grass time.  It’s all brown.  Although there is a little around the edges.  I nibble that but it’s not enough for a real supper. We spend most of our days sheltered form the sun in our runs.

Most days Mummy goes around the vegetable patches with a funny bucket-thing with a spout which makes it rain where she points it.  Sometimes she does one vegetable patch, the next day she’ll do the other, and she sometimes waters one of the trees and some of the flowers.  And sometimes some things under the roof of the patio, too.  I suppose she has to make it rain because it hasn’t rained for ages.  She doesn’t make it rain on the grass, though.

Please make it rain on the grass, Mummy.  We need it.

Roscoe

Eat, sleep, work

Mornin’g all, Roscoe here.

I remembered to put the ‘g’ on up there, did you see that?  What, no ‘ thing?  Okay.

It’s a hard life being a guinea pig y’know.  Eat, sleep, work, eat, sleep, work.  I guess we work at what you call ‘play’, but it’s serious business, you know.

Take morning floor time.  That’s hard work.  It’s called exercise, and as ye may know, some exercise is really hard work.  I get down onto the hay box, and before I have time to explore it, it’s off onto the floor, checking up on everyone and everything.

roscoe

Everyone = Neville plus whoever’s been there with him.  It’s either Bertie or Biggles.  I have to check up on their scents, make sure they’re okay, not leaving any messages they shouldn’t.

Everything = all the nooks and crannies in the kitchen, making sure they are still there, nobody’s overwritten my messages that shouldn’t be there, looking to see whether Mam’s swept under the table, that sort of thing.  Inspection is an important part of work.  Quality control, it’s called.

We have pretty good quality here, even if Mam has gone overboard recently with the cleaning up bit.

The only rest I get is out in the garden. A bit of grass, then a good sleep, in the sun or the shade depending on what takes my fancy.  We’ve been getting out on the grass most days, unless Mam hasn’t got home till really late.  She did that three days in a row last week, but I let her off because we spent most of Saturday and Sunday in the garden.  There’s not much grass there, though.  It’s all dry.  Except the wee bits in the shade of the boards around the veggie patches, or up against the wall. Those are still worth nibbling.

Trouble is, Neville’s nibbled them all now.  Okay, I might have helped a bit.

Mam says we need rain.  She’s even started throwing water on the grass.  It needs more than that, I think, Mam.

Ah, well, hope it’s nice and sunny where you are.  I’m off for some rest.