Roscoe's Christmas gift 2018

Mummy has a bright red snugglesac

Way-aye, Roscoe here!

Hello, Bertie here!  We’re both going to blog today because it’s an exciting story.

Aye, and it’s Christmas this week too.

Two more sleeps. Well, two for mummy, about fifteen for us.

Roscoe rests after his run

Aye, I reckon you’ve got that right, Bertie.

But first – a report on our missing week.  We were in Hampshire, but not the place we’ve been before.

Aye, you knew that, eh – but you didn’t know that Mam’s bought a new house, did you?  Well, she has, and we stayed in it for about a week.

camping in the living room

We had our holiday cages and runs on the floor in what Mummy calls the living room.  It’s got fawn coloured carpet with brown flecks in it, and one day Mummy came in with mud on her shoes when she gave us some things she’d found in the garden—

Not much, she said there wasn’t much to eat in the garden, not even dandelions.

— yes, not much except grass, but she left mud on the carpet, and when she wooshed it up, she couldn’t see the marks in amongst the brown specks.  She called it a magic carpet.

That’s not all she wooshed.  The second afternoon she came back from Auntie Anne’s with a big blue bag.  It all unfolded on the floor next to us, then she wooshed it for ages, and it turned into a big bed for her.  She’d been sleeping on cushions before.  And you know, I didn’t realise, but she sleeps in a red snugglesac.  It’s a bit longer than ours, and she sort of backs into it with her feet first, instead of walking in and turning round—

I don’t think it was wide enough to turn around in.

— and she lies down and goes to sleep in it. For most of the night.

And a bit more.  She hasn’t been waking up till it’s already light.  Mind you it’s not very light in the mornings because it keeps raining.

And yesterday was the winter solstice, so the nights start getting a bit shorter again.

Have you said about our adventure with the tunnels yet?

No, I haven’t had time with you interrupting, like.  Mam put our blue tunnel in the kitchen for our morning run. The kitchen is a good bit smaller than our one here (we’re back in Norfolk now) and the third day she put our tunnels so they led from the kitchen to the living room.  Well, Bertie and I weren’t going to let a chance like that go by, were we?

No we weren’t.

So we went through the tunnels, making sure Mam meant for us to do it, and she was watching us and encouraging us, so we went right ahead.

We did.  It was fun.

Then we did the same the next day.

And you said we could the one after, but Mummy didn’t put the tunnels down, and you went anyway, and came back again to report.

It was grand.  I reckon there’s a whole house to explore when we next go down there.

It’s a long way though.

Ach, it’s fine if you go to sleep.

I do.  And I hide under my bed, too.

I hide under Neville’s coat.

Do you think we’re going back again?

Not before Christmas.  And I think Mam said something about getting a small van for a sofabed and our big cages, just for a trip down and back the next day.

She left things there, you know.  Including the cushions.

Yes, but I think the bed’s still there for her.  Auntie Anne came with the mini-aunties to meet us, but she didn’t take it away with her.

She took the mini-aunties though. They were nice,  I liked them.

Ah, right, they were okay. You can never really trust little hands until you get to know them, though, and sometimes even then.

You don’t like mini-aunties?

I liked them well enough.  Nev and me have bad memories of mini-aunties.  I’ll just wait a little to get to know them.

They really liked me.  And Biggles too.  He did his best impression of a teddy bear for them.

He does do that well.

And we saw Auntie Teresa again, and her man, Uncle Lee. Dani was too busy though.

I wonder if it’ll always be that busy when we go and live there.

Is that what’s going to happen?

Yes, Mummy said so.  She wants to get our room sorted out first; there’ll be some banging when they change the window into a door and change the floor or something, I think that’s what she said.

It all sounds very complicated.

Well, you know Mam.

Yes, I know Mummy. I wonder when we’re going again?

Not till after Christmas.

After the New Year as well.

So, Merry Christmas, everybody!

And a happy new year…

from Bertie, Roscoe, Neville and Biggles.

xxxx

We may be on holiday next week

Way-aye, Roscoe here.

Mam says we may be going on holiday to Hampshire next week.  I was just having thoughts of that nice room with the warm floor, where Mam makes her food and ours in our sight, and then she’ll be sitting on the sofa and watching us.  And maybe Aunties and Uncles coming to cuddle us.

Then she said we’re not going to that place.

If we go, and it’s not certain yet, we’ll be going to a new house, with no furniture in it. It’ll have carpet on the floor, and it’ll be heated, and have lights, and a kitchen and a bathroom, but nothing else.  That sounds a bit strange to me, so I gave her a funny look.  She just winked at me and didn’t tell me any more.

She’s been out a lot last week.  Sometimes she says she has to catch the bus into the city, and sometimes she’s gone way before breakfast time and come back after cucumber time.  She’s left us plenty of food each time, so don’t get the idea I’m complaining, ‘cos I’m not.  I’m just saying.  Well, actually, she gave us breakfast and hay but no pellets on Thursday. That was the day she went to Hampshire and back and why she went so early and came back late.  But she went by train, so she could read a book. I told you Mam was sensible most of the time. She gave us our pellets at cucumber time.

Apparently we’ve got to get ready for Christmas as well. But if we go on holiday next week we may not have internet, and so we won’t be able to blog, or get ready for Christmas, or anything.

It’s all very mysterious, but Mam seems excited.

Till next time, whenever or wherever that is…

Roscoe xxx

There are two men talking to Mummy

Hello, Bertie here again.

There are two men talking to Mummy.  One started a couple of weeks ago, and he’s been talking to her every evening last week.  He might be reading her a story, because she’s listening to him very carefully.

The other man usually talks to her at weekends, and he says a lot of names and numbers.  She’s watching what he’s doing, but I don’t know what.  Although I did take this selfie of us, and you can see what she was looking at on the screen.  I don’t think that’s the man doing the talking.

Bertie selfie watching skijumping

It’s all very mysterious.

Another mystery has been solved!  I always wondered why we got our hat pictures taken around this time of year, and we saw this picture on Facebook.  Mummy helped me put it on our Facebook page.  Apparently the chubby cheeked big person is Santa Paws.  We wear our hats to show him we’ve been good all year and merit a Christmas present.

I’ve been good all year, Mummy, haven’t I? Mostly?

See you next time.

love

Bertie xxx

Bertie at the parsley

There’s something going on

I don’t know what’s going on, but there are many strange things happening.

Take this blog.  It’s changed colour.  It’s snowing (it snowed on Thursday, too). There are pictures of people I’ve never met at the top of the front page, and in the slideshow (although Kevin, Midge, Oscar and Percy are in there too).  There are funny sparkly things and even funnier hats.

I saw Mummy in one of those hats yesterday when she went out to the golf club.  She says she must find time to take our Christmas pictures.  I don’t know what Christmas means, but it’s something to do with hat pictures.  I gather that Colman didn’t like wearing a hat.

colman throws off hat
Colman

I don’t know what it feels like to wear a hat.  I don’t need different clothes, not like Mummy does.  She has a nice padded brightly coloured thing that she wears for golf, and likes so much she wears it in here if it’s a little cooler than normal.  It’s a similar colour to the background of the picture of the seven piggies above, but deeper.  Mummy says it’s called turquoise.  She also told me she’s bought a second one in bright yellow to wear when it’s foggy or darkish.

There are many times I don’t understand Mummy.  If I see a hat, I’ll let you know.

 

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