More grass please, Mummy!

Hi, Percy here.

percy

This week the sun was shining a lot, and some days Mummy brought us in some real grass from the garden.  It’s not long, and there’s not much of it, but it’s really nice.  Mummy says it’s far too cold for us to go out yet.  Although Roscoe told me that a few days Mummy has left the door ajar when she’s gone out and he didn’t think it was that cold.

My teeth seem to be working properly again, and Mummy’s very pleased with me.  I’m not sure my bottom is working properly, though.  Sometimes it feels a bit sore then Midge comes and asks what’s wrong and I tell him to go away.  Then Mummy asks what’s wrong and why are we bickering.  I think she thinks I might have something wrong, but doesn’t know what.  I suppose that means I’ll see Dr Sally soon.  Maybe it’s a good idea, but I prefer to be left to get on with things quietly on my own, really.

Neville & Roscoe with a bit of box

Roscoe’s very happy cos he’s off his meds, and even happier because he’s finishing up any of my special brew that I don’t drink in the mornings.  His scar is all healed with no more stuff underneath it, and his hair is growing back.  Neville’s teeth are growing too.  They are about three-quarter length, and Mummy says she needs to make sure the bottom ones don’t grow too long and upset the balance of his chewing.

And that’s the news from here, really.  It would have been Victor’s tenth birthday tomorrow if he’d still been here.  That’s ancient.

Victor waits
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A very exciting week

Roscoe here.  Glad to see you again.  I gather a few had a wee problem with the accent, like.  Sorry bout that, but Mam says she likes it.

This week was very exciting.  We had a birthday party for young Biggles and his brother Bertie.  You know I’m not right friendly with Bertie.  And Percy filled me in on events between Biggles and Bertie.  It sounds like Bertie’s as bad with his brother as he is with me.

Biggles first birthday cake

Anyhow, Biggles invited Neville and me to his party, which was on the floor in the living room.  That was different!  We don’t usually run around there.  There was a nice warm blanket with something crinkly underneath.  Mam says it’s a plastic tablecloth to protect her floor carpet. Oh, I get you 😉

I had fun exploring, and nosing around the things there, and I found some shiny things up at the side, apparently they spelled out summat, but I don’t read long words too well, especially when the letters are twice the size of meself.  Neville discovered the birthday cake and spent nearly all his time there.  Well, it was nice, and I did have some. Just not that much. Biggles was a bit shy of it too.  He had a good rumble at me instead.

I gather the others had a second party with a separate birthday cake which Midge spent most of his time eating.  Midge and Neville – I wonder what they’d do if they lived together?!

Neville’s teeth are growing along okay.  Mam took more photos this weekend to show you how they go, week on week.  Neville hasn’t lost any weight, mind.

And my lump has finally gone away (touch wood, Mam says), and I’ve finished one of the antibiotics and Mam says I can finish the other on Thursday.  Of course it’s the horrid tasting one that lasts longer.  I cannot wait for Thursday.

Have a nice week!

roscoe neville and grassy box

Our Christmas Box

Way-aye. Roscoe here. And I’m to reassure you that Percy is fine, he’s lookin’ bonny, and he’ll probably be back here next week.

Roscoe with parsley

I have to introduce you to me and my mate Neville. I think me Mam told you all about us last August, so I’d be repeatin’ myself like, or Percy, or the like, so I’ll give you a quick rundown.

I was all happy enough in me home up on Tyneside and Neville and I had been together a while. I don’t right remember when he arrive, to tell the truth, but we’d been okay in our cage for a good while. Then one day our family left. It was all quiet for a day or so, then the landlord came in to check the house, and found us there. He was very nice about it, and gave us food whenever he visited, which was often, until Auntie Layla had room for us. Then we went to stay with her and the kiddies and all the other guineas there. We had a nice summer, lots of grass time, and then we were all neatened up and told we were going on a journey.

Well, that was a long journey!  Very comfy, mind, but still a long way. Two trains, changing boxes in Newcastle station, then a couple of hours later we got into a car and two more hours till we arrived with Mam and the boyos here.

roscoe neville 1
Roscoe and Neville arrive

And you know the rest because you’ve seen the film and you’ve probably got the tee-shirt.

We’ve been havin’ a neat time here. We like our cage and enjoyed the grass time. Then Christmas arrived. It’s kind of a big deal here, with photos with the santa hats and all.

Roscoe prefers Neville's hat
Roscoe fancies Neville’s hat

Then we got our Christmas present.

It’s a lovely box with grass on the outside and grass and hay and lovely herby things on the inside. Oh yes, we got that super furry tunnel, too. We like that.

roscoe neville and grassy box
Roscoe loves the grassy box

At least it was a nice box. Mam’s going to put the photos up for me to show you the lifecycle of the grassy box.  There’s just a wee bitty bit left of it now, but it’s been great fun, I can tell you. If you ever want to buy your guinea pig a great gift, I recommend it.

Neville & Roscoe with a bit of box

That’s all from me this week. Enjoy yourself, won’t you.

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

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year

Percy here.  This is our last post of the year, since next week is Christmas and the following Monday is New Year’s Day.  Mummy says we can have those days off.

Oscar

We lost Oscar from our gang on Thursday.  He’d been under Dr Sally’s watchful eye all year, and between her and Mummy they’d been treating him for organ damage from internal fungal infections and heart disease.  Mummy knew about the fungal thing from Cambridge Cavy Trust, but Dr Sally was more confident of the heart condition.  Anyway, Oscar had a good year, and enjoyed himself, and was perky all the way up until Tuesday, when Mummy got worried about him.  He went over the Rainbow Bridge during the night on Thursday morning. I expect Kevin took him in hand and showed him around. We’re now in mourning until the beginning of February. Seven weeks is the proper period of mourning in guinea pig customs.

Mummy had a sixth sense about him because she took a photo of him with his brother Midge on Wednesday.  They fell out with each other years ago, before I came, and never spoke to each other at floor time.

Midge and Oscar 131217

On Friday we had our Christmas photos taken.  You can see what charmers we are in our hats.  Roscoe wasn’t impressed with his santa hat.  I put up with it to please Mummy.  Bertie wouldn’t stay still, he got really over-excited and Midge and I had to tell him off.  Biggles was over-awed by it all and stayed completely still while Mummy took photos, as did Neville.  Midge and I are old hands at hat photos, of course.

I wonder what we’ll get for Christmas?  Maybe Mummy will post photos next week.

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