I was only a youngster then – and Oscar, Midge and Percy weren’t born at all. It’s a long time ago. I heard about them on the pigvine, what we called the network of tunnels connecting all the important guinea pig homes, like Hugs Towers and the Chateau of Dimerie, and here. Well, I heard about them from Colman who heard about them on the pigvine.
He missed his brother George too much to stay any longer. Apparently they are buried together in the garden, but Mummy’s never told me where. I think I can guess though.
Here he is on holiday in Mull a year or two before he left us. He’d be about three years old here. He was very handsome. Mummy says I remind her of him sometimes – I’ve learnt his Look. Yeah, I have, Mummy!
I couldn’t think of any of our friends and acquaintances with names beginning with I, so I asked Mummy and she said to post something else beginning with I. But not I as in me, although that is a fascinating subject that I’m sure you’d like more of.
There are pictures of Fred, George, Victor and Hugo on the Isle of Mull hanging on the wall opposite my cage. Like this one.
It looks very nice there, even if the grass is a bit short. You can read more about their trip to Mull under the “Tales from the Hutch” menu in the bar below the pictures of piggies in the garden (or whatever our header picture is today).
Victor used to tell us about the Isle of Mull. It’s a very long way away and it took them two days to get there. They were in their boxes in the spare cage with a bag of hay between them to keep the boxes secure. On some trips they could come out and run around on the grass in a run like the one in the picture.
One time it was cold and raining when they stopped and Mummy just opened the boxes for some fresh air, and quiet and peace from the moving of the car. They stayed with Mummy’s cousin half way, and would get to the seaside early afternoon. Then it got very noisy indeed, and all dark, and then they were taken in their boxes out of the car and up some stairs, They were on a ferry from the mainland to the Isle of Mull. It sounds very romantic. And then they had to go back down to the car, and because they’d been in their boxes for a very long time, Mummy used to stop at this place (the one in the top picture) for them to have a rest before the last hour of the journey, across the island on very bumpy roads.
And when they got there they stayed in a little cottage in the travel cages, and ate yummy grass every afternoon, although Mummy always sat with them so the eagles and ravens didn’t come and eat them!
I think I’d like to go to the Isle of Mull. Mummy says we’ll go again when there’s only four of us again.