Change of routine

Waye-aye, Roscoe here again. I suppose I don’t need to say that now, as you’re going to expect me all the time. Oh well, it’s part of my routine, so I’ll stick with it for now.

I don’t like to change my routine. I prefer things to have a nice regular pattern. But things are changing here. Only a bit, but just enough to notice.

First up, Mam wakes up then spends a while doing something in her room before she comes to sort us out. Well, she goes to the room at the other end of the hall, and usually calls in to say ‘good morning’, but then she goes back to her bed. She says it’s not time to get up yet, but the sun’s been up for ages, so why aren’t we?

The sun keeps changing. Not light and dark, and cloud and stuff, but it’s shining in on our runs in the morning. It was shining on Biggles first, but now it shines on us a bit too. Good thing Mam usually remembers to draw the fine curtain across before bedtime, so it’s light without being glaring. When the sun has gone round so it’s not shining on us any more, she usually pushes it back, but that’s not till after run time.

That’s another change: run time. Biggles is always a fuss-pot about being picked up before he’s had a proper wee, and now he’s being extra fussy, so Mam picks up Neville instead. Nev was right surprised at first, but he’s got used to it. Then Mam usually takes Biggles, then me. Then of course, she used to have her breakfast, come back and do Bertie and put Biggles back when she put Bertie down. Now that doesn’t happen, and we’re getting longer and longer runs in the morning. They’re not as much fun without Bertie to explore with. I have no idea what Mam’s doing all this time. But she says we’re finishing very much earlier than we used to, so I suppose she’s just filling in the time, like.

Bertie and me having fun before the runs were built.

The other thing that’s changed is our garden run. This week we’ve had the big panels up with the shades on them. Mam cut the grass with the big orange machine and I thought, uh-oh, no grass. But she left patches surrounded by wooden things, and she put our fence around those. We ate all the grass in one of them, so she put us in the one next to it yesterday. The grass was even longer in that one. I thought these wooden rails were marking out the new vegetable patch. I wonder if she expects us to dig it over as well? But she seems happy enough that we’re mowing it nice and level with the rest of the grass.

The three of us in the space where the veggies are going.

So, that’s what’s happening here. No sign of anyone coming to move into the empty run yet. Apparently nothing will happen till this avirus thing has gone away. And Mam wants it to go away soon so the man can come and decorate the wall behind the shelves, and then she can finish unpacking the boxes in our room.

Life’s so complicated. I hope it settles down again soon.

See you next week

Roscoe xxx

PS Mam said it was George’s anniversary yesterday. Nine years since he went over the Rainbow Bridge. That’s a long time.

Grass is good – and long!

Hello, Bertie here.

We’ve been out on the grass again, nearly every day for lots of hours. I hate to say it but Roscoe was right. Our run moved back towards the wooden hut called the summerhouse, and Mummy cut the rest of the grass with the orange machine. It’s ready to cut again, though. Mummy says she’ll do it today.

Apparently it’s going to be cooler this week, with rain as well. So we won’t go out. We’ve done a pretty good job on the grass, even though I say it myself. The bit we had this weekend was really lush. Mummy put the shade tunnel over it to encourage us to eat it.

Then she put the big rails up and I thought we were going to get a smaller pen, but no. She did it just to put the shade cover up for us. And while we were mowing under that, she put a thin white curtain up to give us some protection from the early morning sun. She thinks of everything, doesn’t she?

So that’s everything from me, apart from a ‘get well soon’ message to Digby.

See you next time

love

Bertie xxxx

All cosy in Hampshire

Hello, Bertie here again.

We’re in Hampshire. Sometimes it’s sunny, sometimes it’s dark, and sometimes it rains. Mummy just put the light on and said “It’s nearly 5 o’clock! But I suppose it would be later in Hampshire.”

This is very strange statement. Why would it be later in Hampshire? Roscoe told you it was after 4 last week in Norfolk, when Mummy put the light on. It seems a big jump from after 4 to nearly 5. Is that what Mummy’s talking about? Help!

We all have cages here now. Roscoe and I have the freedom of the house at run time in the morning. We mostly go from the kitchen to the living room and back. Mummy showed us the room that hasn’t got a hole in the wall any more. It’s got big glass doors like we have at home. Well, Norfolk home. She said we could run around in there too. Roscoe and I agreed we don’t trust the carpet.

We also agreed it’s best if we go back to the kitchen where the fleece is to wee and poop. There is a plastic sheet in front of our cages in the living room, but that covers the nice soft carpet. We think we should help Mummy keep it clean.

Mummy made some funny smells yesterday. One was in the kitchen. She said something about uncle Richard’s grill not working. The microwave bit works okay though. That’s why he and auntie Gill came round on Saturday. To bring Mummy a microwave. She uses that to make her dinner. I don’t understand it myself.

The other smell is from the bedroom. Mummy says she’s painting it. I’m sure this all makes sense to you. We just say “yes, Mummy,” and get back to what we’re doing.

Talking of dinner, Mummy gave us some strange multi-coloured and funny shaped pellets in our bowls. She said it’s called muesli. I quite like it, but Roscoe says he’d rather have the tasty pellets. Biggles doesn’t like the muesli at all and refuses to eat it. Well, Mummy just smiled. I heard what she said about Biggles’ weight last week. It’s one way of making him lose weight, I suppose.

We’re coming back to Norfolk before next weekend. Don’t we have an exciting life?!

See you next time,

love

Bertie xxxx

Neville and Biggles eXchanged

X is for Cross and crossover and eXchanging houses

Hi there, Bertie here.

We’re getting close to the end of our A to Z Challenge, and we’re starting to wonder what we’ll do next.  I’m sure well think of something.

This week Mummy gave me the idea for X.

She’s been wondering why Roscoe and Neville are getting X (cross) with each other. They bicker for a bit, then there’s rumbling, and then Roscoe starts chasing Neville around the run until he turns and they have a stand-off. Mummy got so cross with them after putting them back in their newly clean cages last weekend that she picked Roscoe up and put him in Biggles’ cage, and put Biggles in with Neville.  Then a few hours later, when I was telling Biggles off through the bars for being there, she picked me up and swapped me over with Roscoe!

Roscoe was a bit happier because he can see Neville through the bars and talk to him, but he’s not actually happy.  He’s not so cross though.  I think Mummy doing all this crossing and exchanging is a bit much, but she does funny things, and we all settled down, anyway. Except I think Roscoe is really unhappy he’s not with Neville.

I think he should make up his mind.

Mummy tried to exchange Roscoe with Biggles again on yesterday’s big clean-out. We have daily clean-outs, but on the big clean-outs she exchanges our dirty things for clean ones. She told Roscoe sternly that if he starts trying to fight him, he’s back on his own again, and he was chasing and kicking Nev when they went out on the grass. So when we went in they eXchanged again.

Sigh.  I just keep myself to myself and stay out of trouble. Unless Biggles is around, because he makes me cross.

Next week, Roscoe’s back here with Y, which is a very good question, and then I get to finish with Z. Mummy has come up with some long words beginning with Z for me to think about.

Love

Bertie xxx

Q is for Quarrelling, which we do sometimes

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Blogging from A to Z

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

 

M is for Mam, or Mummy, as Bertie calls her

Hi there! It’s me, Roscoe, the Ruler of the East!

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No, seriously, I just wanted to sound different today. It’s just GeordieRoscoe as usual. We’re still blogging from A to Z once a week, and we’ve just reached halfway with M. But we have an Appeal further down the page, so please read right to the end. Ta.

The best M I could think of is M for Mother, which means Mam, or for Biggles and Bertie, Mummy. I’m not sure why we call her different things. I don’t think she’s different for each of us.  Then I thought some more and decided to ask each of us a question – or set us a challenge, anyway.

Sum up Mam (Mummy) in one sentence

Bertie in armsBertie

She’s the bringer of food, the cuddler of cuddles, the cleaner of cages, the scratcher of crests, and I love everything she does except cut my nails.

Biggles on Mam's lapBiggles

I love Mummy because she looks after me and brings me cucumber, and makes sure I’m well, even if I’m not feeling happy. And she puts up with me when I’m grumpy and makes me feel better.

  • That’s two sentences, Bigs.  
  • Well the second one begins with And, so it would be one if I hadn’t had to put the full stop in.
  • Oh, okay.
Neville

Mam brushes my hair and smoothes my coat and cleans my ears and makes sure I get enough to eat even if someone tries to eat my portions. And lets us run in the garden when it’s nice.

  • That’s…
  • Okay, what Biggles said.
Me, Roscoe

Mam understands how important I am, and sees to my needs, and looks after my welfare, and makes sure I’m looking my best as much as she can. And goes out to play golf or watch birds a lot.

  • Bertie: That’s not fair, I want a second sentence, too.
  • Roscoe: Go on then

Bertie (2): And we all love her but that sounds soppy and it’s really difficult to think of something different from the others. I’m glad I went first.

Roscoe: hee-hee, I know just what you mean.

So that’s what Mam (Mummy) means to us, and we’re all very grateful we’ve got her.

Selfie with Mam

Appeal

Please give some thought for the piggies at the East Anglian Guinea Pig Rescue.  Auntie Sophie was just restarting as a rescue in a small way after Christmas, and had about twenty piggies in, then they all had babies, and then a couple came in that had an illness that didn’t show during their quarantine period.

Mam says the illness is called Chlamydia Cavia, and basically all the piggies that came into contact with the others are either sick or potentially carriers, and can never be rehomed anywhere with either other guinea pigs, rabbits or cats (because cats get it too).

So now Auntie Sophie has 60 guinea pigs with no way of rehoming them (and no rehoming fees to contribute to costs). Unless you have no guinea pigs, rabbits or cats.  And she has a lot of wishlist items and vet bills to pay. Mam says the vet bills are covered for now by donations already.

If you would like to sponsor a piggy or contribute in any way, please see East Anglian GR Amazon wish list, or wait for further details of the sponsorship scheme.

I was a guinea pig in a rescue once and I know how it feels. Thank you for caring about us.

love

Roscoe xxxxx