All by myself again!

Way-aye, Roscoe here.

Today I’m in Bertie’s old run. I’ve been here since Thursday morning, when the man came to do the walls again. On Tuesday Mam put me into Biggles’ run, and put Biggles in with Neville, when she brought us in from the garden. She told me off for fighting with Neville.

I wasn’t fighting with him, I was just telling him to get out of the tent because I wanted it. He was fighting me because he didn’t want to move. He always does this. Every time I’m wanting to sit somewhere in particular, he’s there, hogging it. I’m fed up with it. So I don’t know why Mam blames me. Anyway, she put me in the run on my own, and actually, I quite like it.

I do sometimes miss cuddling up to Nev. I lay beside his run the other day, thinking he might come and chat, but he went to the other end. I don’t know why he doesn’t want to chat. Same reason he didn’t want to move, I suppose.

He’ll come around to my way of thinking in the end, and then he’ll want to sit beside me all the time. Then Mam will see we want to be together, and we’ll probably change runs again.

Mam’s thinking of changing the runs because she likes the new wall and doesn’t want to hide it any more. I like the new wall too. It’s a lovely blue colour.

Instead of the way Biggles’ old run was, she says she could make a three-panel run in line with the four panel one, stretching right along the room, and then either have the two shelves as an L shape, or put one of them somewhere else. She says it will be less crowded when the desk is finally put back together.

She’s thinking about changing the door as well.

That’s our Mam. Always thinking.

I think I’ll chat to you next week. We’ll be out of mourning for Bertie then. This is the seventh week since he died. It’s a long time. But it doesn’t seem long at all, too. Time is funny, but other people have said that on here, too.

See you next time

love

Roscoe xxx

the palace

Our palace is finished

Way-aye, Roscoe here again.

We’ve got a palace! I know Mam told us we’d have a new set of connecting runs all one level, but I never thought it would be as nice as this.

So, on the left, having a sup from his waterbottle, although you can see his back, is Bertie. He’s next to the window-door. His is a 3×2 panel run. Next to him is Neville (at the waterbottle) and me in our 4×2. And next door to us on the right is Biggles, who you can just about see having a bite of celery in his tunnel. He’s got a 6 cube run, but it’s a 2×2 with a 1×2 extension behind ours to make it the same size as Bertie’s.

Don’t you think Mam was clever to lay it out like that? She says it’s easier to get behind Biggles this way, and although his then sticks out more into the room, that’s fine.

In the cubes underneath Mam’s now put our carry boxes, spare fleeces, our tents, and stuff like that. She’s going to use the ones on the other side of Biggles for her own bits, she says.

At one time last week I thought it wasn’t going to happen. Mam got as far as making the base for Biggles, and put his cage on top of it. We were still down on the floor in our cages, although Bertie’s hardly ever in his cage if the ramp was attached. One night Mam forgot to put the top of his cage down, and he was out for a run all night, since he couldnt get back in! I suspect Mam heard him, but let him learn his lesson. We haven’t got ramps in our palace, although Mam says she’s working on it.

Working on it is something she does a lot of. I was saying, she got Boggle’s base done, and then decided she had to plan it properly, like the legendary George would. So she drew it on squared paper and starting counting grids. And counted them again. And then she said “I’m two panels short, boys.”

So then she ordered some more from Mr Amazonian, who said they’d be delivered by the 28th, which as you know is next week. Mam was a bit disappointed, but said ‘Oh, well, they’ll get here when they get here.’ And then she got a message to say they’d be here on Saturday just gone! And then she got a message to say they would arrive at lunchtime – on Thursday!

So Mam got working on it, and eventually it all got made. Nev and I had to spend the day on Mam’s bed, mind. Well, not on her bed like Legendary George, we were in our cage on the bed. Mam made our base, but put Bertie’s cage on it while she made Bertie’s base. And then she made all the top bits. But eventually it was all finished, and all the floors put down that she’d brought with her, and we moved in.

I must says, it’s smashing. And there’s something else I thought. I reckon we’ll never have to move again. Not when Mam’s gone to all this trouble to make such a nice house. So I can relax. I’m home for good.

We’re at work on the grass, getting there slowly. Moving across the garden again. I reckons it’ll be at least two weeks before we reach the end of the garden. I wonder whether Mam will get the machine out to give it a once over before we finish. She did that to the front grass yesterday, and it looks right bonnie.

See you next time

Roscoe xxxx

The Legendary George
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

Midge, Percy & Bertie floor time

I’ve been mistreated!

Bertie here.  I’ve had a terrible time this week. Okay, we went out on the grass for a couple of hours earlier in the week, but then it all changed.

And I mean CHANGED.

One day I was down having floor time in the kitchen like normal, and I came back to find my cage had gone! The bottom part was empty, well with white pads lying all over it, and none of my things.  Mummy put me in my loft – and the ramp had gone!  There was a panel across the top where I usually stand and watch her.  I found another ramp on the other side, but it was steeper and the wrong colour.  I couldn’t bear to go down it.  Besides, I didn’t know where it led.

After a bit Mummy picked me up and put me down a level.  Well, she tried to push me towards the ramp tunnel first, but I wasn’t having any of that. So she put me downstairs with Midge!  Well, that was a surprise.  I like teasing Midge.  We chatted a bit, and he grumbled a bit about having me mess up his nice clean cage. We don’t usually have clean cages midweek. After a while I went back upstairs to have a snooze in my tent.

Percy picks some grass

Later Mummy came back so I came down again. She put Percy in my other run, the one she’d covered with white stuff.  I didn’t see much of Percy. He hid in the zebra snugglesac, which smelled funny. Then Midge got all antsy about me being there, and told me off.  And I told him off, because Mummy had given me the ramp so she must mean me to use it.  And he said nobody asked him, and I said something else, and anyway we got into a bit of a fight.

Mummy took me out and put me in my loft.  She took the ramp away and put the other panel across.  So I was all caged in and in a tiny run.  I tell you, it’s mistreatment and somebody ought to pay for it!

I went out on the kitchen floor the next morning.  Percy didn’t come down. He was wobbling around my his cage like he was drunk or something.  He spent most of his time in his zebra sac or his tartan tunnel. Mummy took him downstairs on his own a few times, well lots of times. She brought us up some nice things sometimes, grass and things called clover. I had another run on the kitchen floor that afternoon, too.  That’s new.  The next day (Friday) was much the same, but Percy was more himself, walking around better.  He was eating hay and food too.  I thought I might get his leftovers like we had the night before, but no.

Saturday all went back to normal.  Mummy cleaned both parts of my run out and put my proper ramp back.  Percy went back to Midge.  They bickered a lot.  Midge was jealous that Percy had special treatment.  Percy says it’s very painful and you have to eat horrid tasting foods. He’s still got his lump.  You can see how big it is because his hair’s been cut off.  There’s a funny line across the lump; it looks like it’s been joined together somehow.  Percy says he’s had an operation but Dr Sally couldn’t get the lump out, so he’s keeping it. Well, if it’s his, why not?

Percy and his lump

So all is back to normal, Percy’s keeping his lump, and Mummy says Percy’s hair will grow back pretty soon. It’s not very pretty, though.  And I was only mistreated for three nights, shut up in a 2×2 cage.

Mummy says I should think myself lucky, I might have had to go in the 100 cage on a floor somewhere without any of my things.  That’s not nearly as nice.

Oh, all right then.

Percy seems all right to me. He hasn’t changed since Saturday.

 

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Who’s in charge now?

It’s all very strange here since Dylan went to the Rainbow Bridge on Friday.

You know, Dylan thought he was in charge, and went around telling us all what to do, and in our own ways we told him he wasn’t and to shut up.  And now we’re all wandering around, wondering what to do.  How can that be?  Was he really that bossy?  Mummy is nodding; I think he bossed her about too.

Midge is back up here.  He’s a very patient person, up, down, up, down, but I think he prefers it up here.  He’s sitting by the panels between our cages, watching me do this post, but yesterday morning when I went over to say good morning to him he bopped me on the nose through the bars.  That wasn’t very friendly!  He apologised, and went over to the other side to sulk.  He was like that all through his laptime, so Mummy said, when she saw my nose and put some honey-cream on it.  It’s only a spot, nothing drastic, like when Colman and I fell out.

After Mummy’s experiment with Percy and Oscar in the same cage went wrong, she’s given up the idea of pairing them up, and Percy has gone into Dylan & Dougall’s cage.  He doesn’t realise what an honour that is.  Not only is it the original cage, the home of the great Fred and George, but he’s also got the use of their hammock.  Dyl thought it was his hammock, but I checked with Victor a long time ago, and he said, no, it was originally George’s although D&D were the first ones to actually sit in it, not under it.

So Percy is a bit wary of his new surroundings, although he’s settling in okay.  Mummy moved Oscar’s grassy hutch so he could sit on it and talk to Percy through the bars when he was in his hammock, but apparently they haven’t worked that out yet.

I suppose they need Dylan to tell them what to do.

Oh, well.  I suppose we’ll get used to it.  I wish Mummy would stop calling me Dyl, though.

Dylan aged 3