Z is for Zones and The End

Hello, Bertie here.

We’re in a different Zone here. We’re in Hampshire again. Hampshire’s in the South.  Norfolk is in the East. Those are different zones, or regions, of our country.

I like Hampshire. Mummy is looking for a new house for us here. I like this one but it’s only for holidays. She was chatting to the nice owner Gill, who brought us some tomatoes. They discussed the house we’re looking for and said this plus the one next door would be perfect. But Mummy’s going out every day to look at others, and to see family. I like family. They came here last time.

Blogging from A to Z

Z is also for The End of the alphabet. The End of our A to Z. It’s taken us all the way from April. We’ve had the whole of summer, eaten all the grass in the garden, met some foster babies, and changed around a bit.

The foster babies weren’t babies any more when they went back to Sophie on Thursday. Apparently they went to their new forever home yesterday. They’ve been eating all our food, obviously.

So, that’s the end of our A to Z Challenge. Roscoe sends his love. I hope you enjoyed our efforts.

What next?

love

Bertie xxx

A2Z anniversary banner

Y is for Yesterday, Youth and Yummy

Blogging from A to Z

Waye-aye all, it’s Roscoe back again.

Y is the second last letter of our A to Z Challenge.  It’s taken us a long time to get here, yet it seems like only Yesterday since we started.

Yesterday was Sunday and we spent a few hours out in the garden.  Mam gave us a very large run, and then let the Youths in to a bit we’d been in. Youths is what we now call the Littlies, the three that Mam’s been fostering, since they’re much bigger now, and behaving more like teenagers than anything else.

Mam’s been telling me off for being grouchy with everyone, including Neville, but I’m not as bad as Bertie, who came out of his run somehow on Tuesday, and attacked Biggles most unkindly.  I don’t know Y he does it.  Biggles had a bite on his cheek, but Mam says it’s healed up fine.  Yesterday Young Eclipse got through one of the fence panels and came to see us oldies.  We were very polite to him, and Mam saw him and came to collect him.  He seemed quite polite too.  I wonder why Mam hasn’t introduced us on the kitchen floor like she did the other two?  I liked the white one, but the ginger one didn’t like being with me at all. Even though we chat when we’re out in the garden. They are going to be leaving us this week, to go to a new home, I think.

There’s not much Yummy grass left in the garden.  We occasionally find a new patch under the shade of the wall, but there’s none under the tree on the other side because that trees taken all the moisture. Mam says we might as well have as big a run as she can make in case we find some we’ve missed.

We’re going down to Hampshire again next weekend, and I hope there’ll be some yummy grass there. Mam says not to hope too much, as they’ve had no more rain than we have.  Apparently it’s wet where all the gardening programmes come from.

Y was a very difficult letter.  Bertie’s got Z next week, which could be just as bad.

Mind you, Mam gave us some Yellow corn Yesterday.  That was Yummy.

See you next time!

Roscoe xxx

W is for White, Wet, and Weather

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Blogging from A to Z

White! That’s me, Roscoe, except for my ginger eyepatch.

I’m blogging from A to Z with the letter W today!

White

I’m the first all-white piggy Mam had, although Kevin had lots of white all over him but lots of ginger patches too. Victor’s back end was white and agouti, Oscar’s back and side was white, and Dougall had about the same amount of white on him as Neville does. Humphrey had a big white face and white feet.  And Hugo had a half-white tummy and a Zorro stripe.

And the baby, Ice, who isn’t going to be a baby for much longer, because he’s growing fast and his funny ears have dropped over like a pig’s should be, he’s all white.  Very white indeed.

Wet Weather

There are three types of weather.  Hot and wet, hot and dry, and weather we can go out on the grass in.  When it’s cold we don’t go out anyway.  We’ve had several weeks this summer where Mam’s said it’s too hot to go out.  It was hot inside as well, but Mam said outside was worse. When we had some rain, it was hot but the ground was too wet, and she didn’t want to risk us all getting pneumonia like Bertie did.  Bertie didn’t go outside when he was ill, even when we did.

Last week it was hot, but we went out when it was all shady and there was only an hour or so before dark. The grass is damp till lunchtime, which I think would be nice if it’s hot. Mummy says we have to wait though.

Wait is another W word.  I don’t like it at all.  But then next time Bertie has X, which is puzzling us all.  Then I get Y and he has Z, and then we’ll be on holiday again!  I can’t wait for our holiday!

See you next time,

Roscoe xxx

Bertie and Percy

P is for Percy, also known as Mr Percy Pig

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Blogging from A to Z

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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Blogging from A to Z

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