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

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

last grass

Update on lumps

Hi there, Bertie here again.

Mummy has stopped making me put my foot in the brown water, but she’s still putting cream on my foot. It feels a lot better, and I don’t mind keeping it on the floor the whole time now.  But it did come back in the week when she stopped one day, then she started again the next, and then she stopped again on Friday. So far so good.

Her white spot came off over a week ago and she now has a purplish patch in her skin. Apparently it’s healing up just fine, it’s just the way human skin goes. She had a letter on Saturday which said the tests the human vets did came back just fine, nothing to worry about.

So we can go back to worrying about moving, and all the things she’s doing to get ready. She says nothing’s finalised yet, she’s just doing tidy-ups while she’s got plenty of time. I think Roscoe told you about her putting pieces of paper all over the floor last week.  Now we’ve got big brown boxes standing around the big chair she sometimes uses to photograph us. A lot of the things on and in her desk have gone into either boxes or the bins.  She tends to talk to us while she’s taking things out and putting them in bins, but I don’t really understand what she’s saying. It’s always nice to hear her voice, though – it’s sort of comforting.

It’s very dark at present. Some days we have the light on all day. It’s weeks since we last went out on the grass, but Mummy says it’ll be a lot more weeks till we go out again. And she says if we go to the house in Hampshire she wants to buy, then there are a lot of daisies in the grass that she’ll have to take out before we can go out on it.

I think she should put that top of her to-do list, then.

See you next time

love

Bertie xxx

cucumber time

Mam makes me nervous, but she knows it now

Way-aye, Roscoe here.

Mam’s being doing lots of things that make me nervous, but she’s worked out that I’ve seen it before and I remember what happened. She’s promised me she’s never going to give me up or let me down, although she might go away for a few nights at a time. She says she might even take me and the others to a strange house and leave us for a couple of nights, but only so she can bring the rest of the house contents back with her.

So yesterday, when she was laying small piles of paper on the floor, and putting some of them in some things called files, I watched her, but didn’t worry. She put  other things in envelopes and put them in a box which lives underneath my run.  Who knew she kept things other than the pop-up tents underneath my run? She keeps one of our carry-boxes underneath Biggles’ run, and another box, and the spare paper and pads for under our fleeces. But I never gave any thought to anything else she keeps underneath us.

She made a lot of noise when she was doing this (and she’s started doing it again today). Sometimes she’d rip some paper in half and throw it in the box for waste paper. Sometimes she’d rip it in lots of pieces. One time she took some over to our waste hay bag, the one that she shakes our fleeces into when she changes them, and tore several things into strips and put it in among the hay. She says that bag goes to compost, and it’s the safest place to send those pieces of paper so nobody else will ever know what they said.

It all sounds very complicated to me, but then, Mam is a complicated person.

Bertie’s quite complicated, too. He’s been having his foot soaked, rinsed and creamed twice a day for the last week. Mam and Dr Sally don’t know what’s wrong with it, although Mam wonders if he stood on a thorn and got an infection in it. Apparently it’s not something called bumblefoot, although they are treating it the same way to stop any infection spreading. Bertie seems quite happy. He says it’s no trouble standing in the brown water for a while, and Mummy tickles his chin while she’s holding him. The brown water’s a bit smelly though. Fortunately, the rinsing and the cream take the smell away.

I hoped Mam would take a photo of him standing in his brown water, but she says she hasn’t got enough hands to do that.

You can’t get the staff, can you?

Ta-ta till next time,

Roscoe

PS Did Bertie tell you Mam spent one day putting all the vet bills she’s ever had in one file? She said it brought back memories. I wonder if she’s going to add up how much each pig cost in vet bills? I hope it isn’t me.

Bertie crossed to the top run

I’ve got a foot and Mummy’s got a lump

Hello, Bertie here again.

Roscoe and I have been discussing the strange white patch on Mummy’s cheek, but he didn’t want to talk about it.  I think he didn’t want Mummy (he calls her ‘Mam’) to be embarrassed about it.

I don’t think she’s embarrassed about it.  She’s been talking to everyone just as she usually does. Although I suppose most of the people talk to her on the phone so they don’t see it.

Anyway, she told us she was going to the hospital on Monday to have a funny white spot on her cheek checked, and when she came back she was just the same. Then she told us Friday she was going back again and she’d have a patch on her cheek because they were taking a sample of it. So she went, and came back, and she had a white square patch stuck on her cheek, a bit like Percy did once upon a time.  Then yesterday she removed the top layer and there’s a smaller round patch underneath which is still covering where they looked at her spot.

She seems fine to me.  Not bothered by it at all.

And she was well enough to give use personal baths on Saturday, mainly because Biggles has been a bit whiffy. So we all had to present our boy bits for inspection. Only Neville’s passed without having to be cleaned. :O

Selfie with Mummy
The other front foot

But then yesterday she noticed I’d been lifting up my right front foot and holding it up, so she looked at it, and then put some cream on it.  She says I’m going to see Dr Sally tomorrow. I like seeing Dr Sally, as long as she doesn’t stick any needles in me, like Dr David did last time.

We’ll keep you updated on our spots and things, but Mummy says it’s nothing, they just wanted to double-check.

Well, she would say that, wouldn’t she?

See you next time.

Bertie xx

PS Mummy’s got a new Princelings book coming out next week. You can find out about it on her blog.

last grass 2019

I am not a Drama Queen! But I am happy now

Way-aye, Roscoe here.

I am not a drama queen, which is what Bertie called me last week.  I was genuinely right upset about everything going on.

But Mam sat down with me and we had a chat. Eventually I told her I was upset she’d given the little ones away, and she said, “but that’s what happens with foster piggies. I look after them for a while, and Auntie Sophie finds them a nice new home, and that’s where they’ve gone.”

Well, I didn’t know that.  I didn’t realise they’d gone the day before we’d gone to Hampshire, I thought she’d left them behind and they’d disappeared, and then Mam disappeared for two days the next week, and… Anyway, now I understand, and Mam’s reassured me that I’m not going anywhere without her, unless she’s so sick someone else has to look after us, and she’s not planning on that any time soon.

And she’s let me go back to live with Neville, because she saw how much I was missing him.  She told me if I start bullying him I’ll be out again.  I don’t bully Neville.  He just disagrees with what I tell him to do sometimes, and if he didn’t do that we’d get on perfectly all the time, instead of just most of the time.  She sniffed in that way she does when she doesn’t believe me.

So I’m back with Nev in our run, and he’s happy with that. And Biggles is next door so we can chat, and he’s happy with that, and Bertie’s in the run above, and we can chat and run around together during floor time, and he’s happy with that.

So we’re all happy now.

Although we’ve had our last grass of the year, well, out in the run at any rate. It was yummy, and there was lots of it, but it takes ages to get dry, so we won’t go out if it’s wet or cold. And it’s only warm enough if the sun’s shining on us.

And Mam is working hard on her books and on stuff about houses, and she’s pretty happy too. And she’s started to prepare for Christmas. Well, she told me she’d ordered some Christmas tree decorations with pictures of Bertie & Biggles, and Nev & me. Apparently she’s got one for all the pigs in George’s GP world, so we’re part of her Christmas always.

See you next time

Roscoe xx