Auntie Doris with Bertie

Our visitors came to see us

Hello! I had a very exciting day yesterday.

Uncle Bob and Auntie Doris came to see us. I didn’t know them before that, but I do now. Mummy has known them a long time, and they’ve known most of the other pigs in George’s Guinea Pig World, but not personally. We’re the only ones they’ve ever held and stroked.

It was extra exciting because they breed and show guinea pigs, and they told Mummy what our breed was most likely to be. And Auntie Doris said Mummy could show me! I am very beautiful. Well, of course you know that. My face markings aren’t perfect (I have streaks in them) but I have a good coat and I am a nice shape. Mummy says I have grown in the last two weeks and my head has caught up with my body. I now have a proper boar shape, according to her.

I expect you agree with all that.

Auntie Doris was very taken with Roscoe. She thinks he’s smart. He might be part Dalmatian as he has a spot in the right place on his head, and he also has some Sheltie in him. She also says he has one blue eye and one brown one, which is why Mummy has been thinking his eyes aren’t the same shape. His brown eye is the one in his ginger patch and the blue eye is the one on the white side.

Neville is mainly Peruvian, probably with some Abyssinian as he has too many coronets. And Biggles is definitely descended from a Rex. That means I’m definitely descended from a Rex too, as we are litter brothers. Rex means king, so as I thought, we are royalty.

We had nice cuddles with Auntie Doris and Uncle Bob as you can see here. I liked Uncle Bob’s beard. I like Uncle Bob and Auntie Doris very much and I hope they come back again soon.

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I’m totally adorable!

I am smart, good-looking, will cuddle up to you if you need me, and I’m totally adorable.

Bertie
Bertie

So why does Mummy say I’m a monster?

Okay, that Roscoe told tales about me fighting him a few weeks ago.

Biggles in his run

And when I sneaked into Bertie’s run while Mummy was snoozing on Friday evening, well, it was his own fault we got into a fight.  It was nothing to do with me. Why he was hiding in his tent, crying, when Mummy woke up, I have no idea.  He’s a big baby.  I was just in his tunnel, making sure next door’s cat didn’t intrude on our territory.

Apparently, apart from lots of patches where his hair has been pulled out, Biggles has a big bite on his back. Mummy’s put him straight onto Roscoe’s medicine before my germs can get nasty.  MY germs?  I reckon they’re Biggles’ germs.  Or Roscoe’s even, leaving them lying around wherever he’s been.  He goes everywhere, that chap. AND he’s been eating the bottom of the hay bag so the hay drops onto the floor.  That’s quite clever, actually.  I wish I’d thought of that.

But I don’t do things like eat hay bags.  I’m a good boy.  I’m totally adorable!

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Neville and Roscoe

All change!

Hi there, Roscoe here.

Well, it’s been a very strange couple of weeks, and I can’t say I like all the changes.

First Percy was ill.  He was all wobbly for a day or so, and Mam took him with her when she went away for a couple of days.  When she came back Percy had gone over the Rainbow Bridge.  I can’t say I was surprised.  He’d been poorly underneath all his bravery.  He’d had this lump on his jawbone ever since we’d known him, and it wasn’t going to get better.  He was having medicine to help him feel okay, but he was fed up with it. Nice about it, mind, but still fed up.

Bertie misses him a lot, so does Mam. And we get through floor time ever so quick now.

Bertie hiding

Mam does us in a different order, now Bertie’s come down to live in a cage opposite us.  We hardly saw him that first week, he was so distressed.  Not sure whether it was losing Percy or being in a strange cage.  He started to come out of hisself after a few days.  He’s got a ledge he can sit on and see us better. I stand on the side of my cage and look right back.  I don’t get to chat with him on the floor, though.  Mam puts me down with Neville, just as right and proper, but Biggles and Bertie each have some time chatting to Neville too.  He’s says they’re nice boys. Not sure he knows what a nice boy is, mind.

Roscoe keeping an eye on Bertie

He’s been acting strange recently.  A lot of weeks now he’s been right antsy about me.  Tells me to mind my own business and stop playing with him, and then gets all cross with me.  I don’t know what’s come over him.  He used to be such a quiet, amiable chap.  If I said move over, he’d move over quiet as a lamb.  Now I have to assert my authority, like.  Then he argues.  What’s more, Mam and Biggles and Bertie all side with him. I can’t see it myself.  He’s getting to be a right pian to live with.  And anyway, how come Bertie and Biggles get a cage each and we have to share?  I asked Mam and she said it was better for me to share with Neville, more company.  I’d be lonely on my own, she said.

Yeah, right.  But he wouldn’t argue with me, would he?

Maybe he’s just upset with all the changes too.  He used to spend time chatting to Percy.  They all did.  I did too, when we were on the grass.  He was a lovely chap.

Roscoe
What’s over there?

Never mind.  I hope we go out for some more grass today.  I like grass.  That never changes.

Bertie watches over Percy

I miss Percy dreadfully

I’m very sad at the moment. I was all alone upstairs in the run when Mummy took Percy to the dentist last week. Then I was all alone again when she took him somewhere else for a couple of nights. She did tell me what she was doing, but I didn’t understand, except for her coming back after two darks.

When she left, Percy had been wobbling about his cage a lot. He told me he was feeling very funny. Mummy said he’d had a funny turn at the dentists and she was glad he’d pulled through. He wasn’t all right though.

Then when she came home after the two darks Percy had gone over the Rainbow Bridge. I think I knew he’d gone after the first dark. There was a sort of shimmer in the fabric of guinea pig space. That’s what Percy told me about when Midge died. It’s the way we guinea pigs communicate across time and space. That’s what he said, anyway. I told him I didn’t understand and he said I would in time.

Then I asked what is time, and he said he wrote about it the other day. Fred wrote about it too. I said I didn’t know Fred, and he just said ‘you will’ in that funny way he did when he talked about time.

So I’m very confused and I’m on my own now.

I was very lonely and then Mummy brought me downstairs to the kitchen for my run and when she picked me up I went in a new cage in the kitchen. It’s not as big as the upstairs run, but it has got a little ledge for me to sit on and I can look out of the window and at Roscoe and Neville and Biggles. Roscoe stands up at the edge of his cage and looks back at me. I don’t really like it, but it’s better than being on my own upstairs when Mummy’s out.

She says she still talks to me when she’s upstairs as if I’m there, and she misses me, but it’s best if I’m with the other piggies. I have spoken to Neville during floor time. He’s very nice. I am still not talking to Biggles, though. Neville said I should because he’s nice too. Roscoe’s a bit scary on the floor and Mummy picks him up before she puts me down, but leaves Neville for a while so we can chat.

I miss Percy. And my upstairs run. Mummy says I’ll be back in it some day, probably in winter when I can’t go outside. It’s easier to go outside from here.

Mummy reminded me to tell you we’ll now be in mourning until mid-July. We were going to come out of mourning for Midge this week, but now we have seven more weeks, because that’s the right number for mourning.

But Mummy says we can still have a cake for Princelings Day like she’s been planning. That’s 13th June. Percy would have explained it all much better. I miss him.

Neville and Roscoe

Same old same old

Hi all.  Roscoe here.

I don’t know what this blogging business is all about.  I haven’t got anything else to say.  I said it last time.

We’re often out eating grass.

Mam is often out doing whatever she does on the grass.  When she’s not out she’s either upstairs with Percy and Bertie, or in the garden pulling things out of the flowerbeds.

I hear Bertie was a bit huffy last week.  He’s like that.  Full o’ hisself.  Mam says I’m full o’ meself too. Well, at least I’ve learnt to put a g at the end of my doin’ words.

Bertie was right scared when Midge had his fit.  He was right next door watching.  He’s grown up a lot since that night, I can tell you.  Mam even left Biggles out on the floor the other day when she put Bertie down for his run.  Once it would have been blue murder straight away, or so Percy says, and I’ve met Bertie and can believe it.  But no, I watched Bertie eye up Biggles, and Biggles eye up Bertie, and Percy look from one to the other and snuggle in his hay box to keep out of the way… and nothing happened.

They still size each other up and play it big when they’re out in the garden with a cage panel between them.  But it’s not too bad.  Nothing nasty, like.

So he’s growing up, and Mam calls him a good boy to encourage him some more.

So forgive him if he’s still totally self-centred.  I mean, all pigs are, really, aren’t we? And don’t forget, we’re Rodents with Attitude.

Where’s my cucumber, Mam?