S is for Summer, and Sadness

Way-aye, Roscoe here again.

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It was hard finding inspiration to talk about the letter S this week. Mam had some good suggestions, and Summer is certainly one I feel qualified to talk about.

But I also feel Sad, and that’s because I felt completely misrepresented last week.  Joshua and Auntie Noelle both thought I wasn’t very talkative. I answered Bertie’s questions when he came and interrupted me, and he wrote down the answers. He got all the rest of our background from Neville the other week, what would have been the point of repeating that?  You’d have said ‘Oh, we know all that.’

Also, I don’t think you understand how hard it is being a rescue pig with no wish to relive the horrible time when you were just left.  We were lucky, some aren’t. It’s traumatic, being moved about and worrying whether anyone will keep you, however nice people try to be.  Even these days, when Mam puts me in the carrier, there’s a little part of me that wonders ‘will I be coming back here?’

Anyway, it’s still Summer, and we’ve been out on the grass most days.  The grass is a wee bit short, and the other grass is a bit dry, but Mam says we aren’t getting enough rain.  Sometimes it’s been too hot to go out till really late, when the sun is going down. But we’ve been fine.  Some people’s piggies haven’t been, and the reports of piggies dying in the heat are horrible. And Sad.

 

The new kids on the block went out on the grass on Saturday and we had a chat with them.  I talked to the ginger one and the white one.  The black one took a dislike to me for some reason.  He had a real rumblestrut at me.  Cheeky little… Biggles had a nice chat to them too.

Nev likes his new haircut and Mam says he looks better with his hair short.  She said his face reminds her of Victor with his cut as it is. So I think that’s three pigs he reminds her of now.  As for me – well, she’s called me Colman a few times recently, and I don’t know why. I could understand her calling me Kevin. Mam says there’s a word beginning with S to describe her brain at present – Senile. I think she’s just been working too hard on her new book.  Perhaps she needs a Siesta.

That’s it for this week.  Bertie will be back next week, to talk about T.

love

Roscoe xxx

PS Here’s a picture of Mam’s wildflower garden with lots of butterflies in it.  We’re not allowed in there because there are some poisonous plants in among the yummy ones.

wildlfoer meadow with butterflies

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R is for Rescue, and also Roscoe’s interview

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Hello everybody, Bertie here, taking you further on our journey from A to Z.  I thought that sounded a bit posh, and I hope you agree.

Today I’ve thought of two things: rescue pigs and Roscoe. Mummy persuaded me that interviewing him was a good idea after I did one for Neville.  I don’t really know why, because you know what he thinks about things anyway.  But first the exciting news.

Rescue pigs

We are fostering some guinea pigs from East Anglian Guinea Pig Rescue.  Auntie Sophie has rescued sixty baby pigs from a breeder who’s given up.  You can find out more at their Facebook Page.

Most of us here have been rescue pigs.

  • Fred & George came from the first Norwich GP Rescue.
  • Hugo & Victor came from Auntie Vikkie at the Norfolk one
  • Humphrey & Hector came from Auntie Sophie when it was still the Norfolk one.
  • Kevin and Colman were rescued but not from a rescue.  They’d been rescued by Auntie Pigpog and then she had to rehome them, so they were sort of double-rescued.
  • Dylan & Dougall would have gone to Auntie Vikki to be rescued but Mummy took them straight away, so they were sort of pre-rescued.
  • Percy was turned into a Rescue and shown in the Pets at Home Adoption Centre, so he counts, Mummy says.
  • Roscoe & Neville came from the NorthEast Guinea Pig rescue, which they’ve talked about before.

Biggles and I weren’t rescued.  We were rehomed as babies from Auntie Sophie’s lovely piggies. She sort of rescued them, though, but to be with her as forever pigs. And Oscar and Midge were Auntie Vikki’s special rex pigs and they needed a new home, but weren’t rescued.

It sounds complicated to me.

foster rescue pigs Fire and Eclipse

Anyway, Mummy says codenames Ice, Fire and Eclipse are staying for about six weeks. Ice is white, an Aby with pink eyes, and he’s the youngest.  Fire is the ginger and white one, who’s very laid back and friendly, and probably the oldest. Eclipse is a bit scatty, but likes being cuddled, and sometimes stops and stares at Mummy when she’s watching them. Sounds like he’s got Mummy taped.

Roscoe’s interview

Neville, Roscoe and Bertie pile in to the cake

First of all, who are your companions and what are their favourite things?

My companion is Neville.  He’s a nice chap. We get on just fine mostly.  His favourite thing is sleeping, closely followed by grass, pellets, and then cucumber.

Nev loves comfy things, like the tunnel or the hay box

Why did Mummy decide to get you? 

I think she saw Neville and he reminded her of Dylan. Then she saw me and fell in love with me.

Where were you before you came here?

Up north in a place near Newcastle.

Neville and Roscoe settle in

What’s your favourite thing Mummy does?

Gives me nice nibbles, especially cucumber and special hay. Grass time’s good, too

What are your favourite memories of your companions 

I don’t remember any companions other than Nev till we met you.

Tell us a secret that we promise not share with anyone except readers of the blog

I’m not telling you any secrets, you won’t keep them..

Well, thanks a lot for that, Roscoe. I expect everybody learned a lot about you.

He wasn’t very helpful, was he? Huh. Well, anyway, I hope you all enjoyed my post for R today. Till next time

Bertie xxx

Q is for Quarrelling, which we do sometimes

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Way-aye, Roscoe here again, racking our brains over what to do for Q in our journey from A to Z. Topics our predecessors chose were Quiet (Percy), Quiz Questions (Dylan) and Quince (Victor).  Well, I reckon quarrelling is a sight more interesting to read about than any of them.

Mam also asks us whether our Cuddle Quotient has reached ‘full’ in the mornings.  I’m not sure whether that’s even a thing, but Quotient starts with Q. She asks when I decide I’m ready to go to the kitchen, and then decide to snuggle in her arms a bit longer.

Quarrelling.  Well, Mam tells me and Nev to stop quarrelling sometimes, but really, it’s Neville’s fault because he doesnt want to do what I want him to.  We just grumble at each other, and maybe we waggle bottoms to tell each other we mean it. But Neville usually understand I’m right without any more fuss.

Bertie and Biggles are something else. They just don’t get on.  Bertie tries to quarrel with me, but I’m very patient, and usually persuade him to be sensible and see it my way.  We talk about these things through the bars, and then we really do bum-waggle to emphasise our points. Sometimes we get as far as rumblestrutting, which is the next stage after bum-waggling.

But Bertie and Biggles quarrel if Bertie gets half a chance. The other day Mam thought Biggles was down with us, but he wasn’t; he was up under the table at the top of the kitchen.  She put Bertie down after his cuddle on the mat up there, and Bertie went straight for Biggles. I really don’t know what Biggles does that makes Bertie so mad at him.  I think he’s a nice chap.  Very amiable.  Anyway, Mam got the tent to Biggles in time before too much harm was done.  I noticed she put him up on the weighing centre and checked him all over, though.  I reckon she spotted the bit of hair on the mat up there, that Bertie had pulled out on his first rush.

He’s a nutcase, Bertie, I reckon. Don’t pick a quarrel with him, is my advice.  He’s too ready to pick one with you.

We’ve got something Really special for you next week.  I wish I was doing it, but I’ll leave it to Bertie and think about Something Super Special for the following week.

Bye for now

Roscoe

 

Bertie and Percy

P is for Percy, also known as Mr Percy Pig

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Percy was my uncle.  He looked after me and Biggles when we first left our birth mum and aunties and sister and cousins and came to live here. He had led a fairly quiet life up till then, but we soon changed all that.

Percy was a mystery pig, because nobody knew how old he was, or where he’d come from.  Except Mummy saw him in a shop advertised as being 5 years old, and she thought he would fit in well with the pigs here then. Also she didn’t think many people would want a five year-old black pig five weeks before Christmas.

Well, she was wrong, wasn’t she, because she did!  She went back to get him two or three days later.  He lived in the grey cage opposite the others who were here then, Dylan and Dougall, and Oscar on his own. And Kevin was upstairs with Midge. I think that was how it worked, anyway.  Then it wasn’t long before Dougall died, and Dylan went upstairs to live with Kevin and Midge, and Percy moved into the blue cage here we found him a year and a bit later.

It turned out he wasn’t five at all, though.  Mummy and her friends worked out he couldn’t have been much more than eighteen months old when she brought him home.  He grew quickly when he was here and developed what Mummy calls a ‘classic boar shape’.

When we arrived, Percy was astonished.  He was also worn out with us rushing around and jumping on him.  He soon sorted us out and explained how pigs should behave.  I’m afraid I didn’t listen to his teachings much, although I liked the stories he told us.

Percy managed the blog for a long time, and did the A to Z in April with Kevin. He’d gone upstairs to live with Midge and Kevin then, and we’d taken over the blue cage. And maybe Biggles had moved next door to me. I get confused.

Then Percy got a lump on his cheek, which was called a sarcoma, and Dr Sally and the other doctor he saw couldn’t do anything about it, so eventually he died. That was very sad. I still miss him a little, but I’m usually too busy with Roscoe and Neville to miss him much.  I remember snuggling him, and him reassuring us when there were scary things like thunderstorms, though.

He was a very amiable person, and got on with everyone. I think he was very clever, as well.  He had little tricks and signals he did with Mummy. Like patting her shoulder was a signal. I’ve learned to do it too, but sometimes I forget to do it at the right time.

So that’s P for Percy.  Next week, Roscoe’s got the letter Q.  We’re all trying to give him ideas on what it might stand for, but nobody’s come up with anything yet.

Princelings box set 1 coverTomorrow is Guinea Pig Appreciation Day, and Mummy says ten lucky people can get the first 3 ebooks in the Princelings series FREE at Smashwords until midnight tomorrow night, Pacific time, which means about 8 am on Wednesday if you’re in the UK. You need to add the code RL68R at the checkout. Be lucky – and I hope you enjoy it!

Bye for now

Bertie xxx

O is for Outdoors and Other things

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Outdoors is definitely my favourite thing.

I’m Roscoe, and we’re working our way from A to Z through the alphabet.  My mate Bertie does alternate weeks with me.

We spend most of our time indoors, in our runs, up next to Mam’s working space. But summertime, we go outdoors into the garden, if the weather’s not too hot, not too wet, not too cold, and not too dry. Or too dark.

Most days Mam sets up our run around or between the vegetable patches, with their own little fences surrounding them.  She says it ‘maximises the use of the panels.’ I know we get bigger runs when she does that. I don’t know if that’s what ‘maximises’ means. Bertie generally gets his own run, because he fights with Biggles if they are left together. We get on with both of them.

Bertie’s run always joins onto ours. We have a sort of meet and greet area. We’ve got that indoors as well, so it’s not vital.  Biggles likes running around with us, though, and we like him. He’s a nice chap, keeps himself to himself while still being sociable, like.

Over the weekend she decided we’d better get to work on the grass elsewhere in the garden and we had one under the tree and the other next to it, spreading out onto the grassy area, which is still a bit sparse. It’s recovering from drying up last summer.

Saturday we were with Biggles in the very shady patch.  Sunday we were in the other one (which is bigger) with Bertie. We got to work on the grass on both places, but clearly Bertie needs more help to mow his than Biggles does.  But then, he doesnt pay much attention to the grass.  He spends a lot of time bothering me.  He’s a right pain in the grease gland at times.  Later in the afternoon Mam put me back with Biggles, which was nice.  Biggles appreciated my company too.

(Sigh) Outdoors.  I like it a lot.  I sometimes stand at the door when Mam’s out picking our breakfast, thinking how nice it would be to go out straight away.  But I don’t.  Not till Mam says the time is right.

Then I can go and get the feel of grass underneath my feet, the wind in my ears, and the sun on my back. I laze around listening to the birds singing, and the little rustling noises of things in the borders, like frogs, and toads, and insects.

Yes, I love outdoors. Although I’m not so keen when it rains.

Next week, Bertie’s back with something beginning with P.  I’ve no idea what.

Have a good week.

love

Roscoe xxx

 

N is for Neville – the interview!

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Hello, Bertie here.

I decided that N would be an interview with Neville.

Neville lives with Roscoe in the run next door to mine, so I could chat to him through the bars. Obviously it would be silly for Roscoe to interview him!

I’m going to ask him roughly the same questions I asked Joshua, although some answers are pretty obvious if you read our blog regularly.

Neville helps Bertie eat his cake

 

Neville’s interview

First of all, who are your companions and what are their favourite things?

My companion is Roscoe.  He’s a nice chap. We get on just fine mostly.  Some evenings he gets a bit bossy, but I tell him no. After a bit he gives up.

His favourite thing is grass, closely followed by pellets, and then cucumber – his or mine.  Mam caught him trying to steal mine the other evening, because I taking my time over it, enjoying it properly. He’d finished his already.

Roscoe loves bitey things, like the hay box, or the paper under the fleeces. 

roscoe neville

Why did Mummy decide to get you? 

I don’t know, but I’m right glad she did. Oh, yes – Roscoe’s just reminded me that I look a lot like Dylan from the front, and Dougall from everywhere else. So Mam couldn’t resist me. (sounds of Roscoe muttering in the background)

Where were you before you came here?

Up north in a place near Newcastle. We were there for about three or four months after the family who had us before disappeared. I don’t know why they disappeared.  I liked them most of the time. Sometimes they left us in the cage without much attention for a couple of days, but the half-size humans were sweet, most of the time. We stayed at a couple of different places after that, but the people were very nice and very attentive.  They brushed my hair and cleaned my bottom (which can get a bit mucky with the long hair). I was very comfortable with them.

There were two very nice half-size humans there, too. They played with me and gave me treats. They had nice careful hands.

Neville and Roscoe settle in

I vaguely remember half-size humans too. What’s your favourite thing Mummy does?

I love when she gives me nice nibbles, especially cucumber and special hay. I like when she puts us out on the grass too. I enjoy being sat on her lap in the morning and eating cucumber.  It’s nice to have some time with her to myself.

Neville with his back to the camera

What are your favourite memories of your companions 

Well, Roscoe’s been my only companion full-time. He’s often off getting into mischief, but that’s just him rather than a favourite memory. I think he’s a very good companion (if bossy at times).

When we travelled here on the train, we didn’t know what was going on, and I was a bit scared.  Roscoe told me stories to keep my mind off the things that happened in the past. He made up this adventure where we went somewhere entirely new and lived in a palace with lots of servants and lovely food every day.

Most of that came true. We met Percy, and then you, and Biggles, and Midge, and there was another guy here then, Oscar, I think he was called. I don’t think anyone was a servant, but we had lots of new friends. And we went out in the garden together and chatted through the railings.

And we do have lovely food every day!

Oscar meets Roscoe

Tell us a secret that we promise not share with anyone except readers of the blog

Mam has put me in the last Princelings book. I’m a bit like a pirate, but I also get mistook for Dylan.  Or is it Dougall? I don’t know. Maybe both.

Thank you very much for that, Nev. It was great!

And I hope you all enjoyed it too. Till next time

Bertie xxx