Hello, Bertie here again.
I’m having a wonderful time back upstairs in my old cage-run. We came up here last week, as Roscoe told you. I love it here. I can snooze in my tunnel, watching Mummy working at the computer right in front of me. She’s done a lot of that this week, although a lot of the time she’s just been staring at the screen. Sometimes she puts her head on one side and frowns, or puts her chin on her fist and goes, “hmm”. I don’t know what it means.
She’s happy, though, and she says she’s finished editing now. I think that means her new book is nearly ready. It’s not about us, though. I wish she’d write a book about me.
She’s written several books about Dylan and Dougall. There are some short stories about them on Mull, although they never got there. Dylan and Dougall would have been seven years old tomorrow. That’s really old. Apparently Colman got to his seventh birthday but he’s the only one.
Neville looks like Dylan and Dougall, Mummy says, but he’s more like Dougall in personality. I’m getting more like Dylan as we grow older, she says. I think that’s a compliment.
Biggles is getting an extension to his run tomorrow. We’ll show you pictures next time.