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

Advertisements
Bertie in tthe tunnel

The sun has stopped shining on me

It’s sunny today.  Yesterday was dull and wet and windy.  Mummy still went out in her golfing uniform.  I think she has a special coat for golfing in rain.

I have noticed that the sun has stopped shining on the end of my cage.  This is very puzzling.

When I was upstairs, the sun didn’t shine on my run until after Midge died.  Then it started shining on the end of my run in the afternoons.  Mummy moved my water-bottle so it didn’t get shined on.

Bertie at end of run

Then when I came downstairs, after Percy died, the sun shone on my waterbottle earlier in the day, but after it had checked out Biggles’s cage.  You could tell it was coming because it would stop shining on Biggles’s cage, (although Mummy had a cloth across the end of it so his waterbottle was in shade), and then it would come to mine.  So Mummy put a cloth across the top of my cage too.

Bertie in the grey cage

It was strange, because then it tried to creep forward to get in the cage anyway.  Then it gave up and started to move further back, and now it’s stopped shining in my cage at all, although it’s still looking in Biggles’ cage.  But not for long.

Mummy took the cloth off my cage today saying I didn’t need it any more, because it’s getting towards autumn.

So I’ve been sitting in my tunnel, watching the sun move across the wall and puzzling it all out.

It’s still a puzzle.  I don’t think it’s anything to do with Midge or Percy, though.  That was just coincidence.

The sun’s still there when we go out in the garden.  Mummy moves us around a lot, but we have small runs with lots of grass in them.  Do we prefer large runs with no grass or small runs with lots of grass? Tough call.

So many things to think about.  I’d better have some hay while I chew it over.

Love

Bertie xx

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!

SaveSave

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.

Sometimes it’s hot and sometimes it’s not

Hello everybody, it’s Bertie here.

Some days last week were nice.  When Mummy got home she put us out in the garden in the runs and it was very nice.  She put the covers across the cages depending on how hot it was and how late it was.  Later the sun doesn’t seem quite so warm.

Nev and Ros in the shade of the fence

I had the middle run this week, between Roscoe & Neville near the fence, and Biggles nearest the path.  It was nice to see everybody but I find the sky a bit scary, so I rested in the tunnel or under my tent when there wasn’t anything else to do.

Bertie in tthe tunnel

The grass seems to be getting a bit dry.  I suppose I shouldn’t complain, but it is.  Mummy said the grass under the plum tree is very dry, even dryer than mine.  We didn’t go out yesterday because it was a ‘bit cool’ as Mummy says, and she brought us in some grass.  There wasn’t very much, and most of it was drying, but it was very tasty all the same.

Mummy says we need rain, but only at night.  I’m not sure that’s the way it works, Mummy.

SaveSave

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.