More grass please, Mummy!

Hi, Percy here.

percy

This week the sun was shining a lot, and some days Mummy brought us in some real grass from the garden.  It’s not long, and there’s not much of it, but it’s really nice.  Mummy says it’s far too cold for us to go out yet.  Although Roscoe told me that a few days Mummy has left the door ajar when she’s gone out and he didn’t think it was that cold.

My teeth seem to be working properly again, and Mummy’s very pleased with me.  I’m not sure my bottom is working properly, though.  Sometimes it feels a bit sore then Midge comes and asks what’s wrong and I tell him to go away.  Then Mummy asks what’s wrong and why are we bickering.  I think she thinks I might have something wrong, but doesn’t know what.  I suppose that means I’ll see Dr Sally soon.  Maybe it’s a good idea, but I prefer to be left to get on with things quietly on my own, really.

Neville & Roscoe with a bit of box

Roscoe’s very happy cos he’s off his meds, and even happier because he’s finishing up any of my special brew that I don’t drink in the mornings.  His scar is all healed with no more stuff underneath it, and his hair is growing back.  Neville’s teeth are growing too.  They are about three-quarter length, and Mummy says she needs to make sure the bottom ones don’t grow too long and upset the balance of his chewing.

And that’s the news from here, really.  It would have been Victor’s tenth birthday tomorrow if he’d still been here.  That’s ancient.

Victor waits
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Neville & Roscoe with a bit of box

I’m still here!

Hi, Percy here.  I’m very pleased to report that I’m still with you.  Mummy has been giving me Metacam twice every day, and my lump has gone down enough for me to straighten my jaw and eat more or less properly.

I’m not surprised Mummy was really worried about me, though, I felt really poorly after that night I had with the twitches.  It felt most peculiar and I was worn out and feeling very uncomfortable.  But I’m over that now, and happy to be organising a birthday party for Wednesday! More of that next week.

Roscoe’s scar is nearly healed.  It’s taken a bit longer because he had a funny bug in it that needed a different antibiotic.  So he’s been on two types of antibiotic for over a week now, and seems to be getting better.  Fingers crossed.  He went for a check up last Thursday and Mummy took Neville with him.  Neville had incredibly dirty ears. It was like black soot in them. Mummy said she wasn’t sure whether the dirt went all the way down, so she wanted Dr Sally to look at them.

Well, according to Roscoe, when Dr Sally put a thing in his ear to look down, Neville didn’t like that at all, and shot backwards out of Mummy’s hands and slipped down between the table and Mummy’s body.  Mummy tried to catch him but all she could grab was a lot of hair!  Eventually Neville got onto the floor, and Mummy could pick him up and check him over.  He didn’t have any bones broken or hurt, but he did have a sore lip and his top incisors were wobbly. He and Roscoe both had a run around on Dr Sally’s floor just to check he was moving okay, too. Mummy is terribly worried that Auntie Layla will think she’s a bad Mummy, but she isn’t, she just wanted to check Neville’s hearing was okay, and Neville didn’t want it checked.

Anyway, Roscoe says Neville is eating fine even though his front teeth have now broken off at the gum.  Mummy took a photo of Gummy, as we now call Neville, and we expect he’ll grow some new ones in a week or two.  Meanwhile he’s getting some of his food cut up in strips like I have mine, but apparently he’s fine at picking up hay and munching bits of lettuce and stuff.  He hasn’t lost any weight yet, anyway, and he’s a tubby boy, just like Dougall was.

Sometimes I wonder how Mummy keeps track of all the meds we have, but I noticed that she has a black board with white writing on it, and our names are there, with long words and some figures after them.  I expect that’s our meds list, as none of the others are on it except Roscoe and me. Neville had some of my metacam for the first couple of days after he did his teeth, but he’s stopped now.

So, it’s been very busy here this week.  The good news is we had special hay with carrots and herby bits in it.  We also had a little grass from the garden. I like both of those. More please, Mummy!

 

Bertie

Temper Tantrum

It’s not my fault!  I had nothing to do with it.  I was nowhere near Roscoe when he got into a fight.  I had nothing to do with it.  It wasn’t my fault he put his neck between somebody’s teeth.  It was dark.  Why do you always pick on me? Just because I’m the youngest! I’m not going to play anymore.  I don’t want to do it.

Intermission

Percy here: Sorry.  Our little tearaway is just suffering from hormone-fuelled guilt, I think. He’s now been grounded until he can be more polite to you all.  I think we need somebody from Downstairs to do some blogging, anyway.  Let me introduce you to Roscoe, who is sporting a very dashing scar on the right side of his cheek and neck.

Hello Roscoe!

Roscoe with parsley

Way-aye, this is Roscoe here.  Some people say my accent can be a little hard to follow, but I’m sure we’ll be fine. I see young Bertie has had a wobbler up there, well, I wouldn’t call it good manners what he did, but now I’m all fixed up, like, so no harm done.

I’d like to thank Auntie Dawn, who I’ve not met yet, for her good idea about the ladies finding scars attractive.  Wor mam says it’ll probably be fine once my lovely long hair grows back, and I hope it does soon, ‘cos its a little chilly around the front end, if you know what I mean?  Dr Sally said she’d had to make a bigger hole than usual, because the lump had got so big.  At least, she said that when she was talking to wor mam afterwards, when mam came to tek me home.  I was pleased as punch to go home, I can tell you. It was nice enough there in hospital, but I like me home, and I suspect that young Neville was missing me.

So, I hope Percy invites me back to talk to you some more. Cheerio till next time.

Roscoe xxx

Percy's new bed

My lump is back

Sigh.  Yes, my lump is back again.  Percy here, of course.

I have a lump on my cheek.  Mummy and Dr Sally spent a lot of time last year looking at it.  Sometimes Dr Sally gave me a rest on her bed while she took a look at it more closely.  One time I came back to a clean run all on my own while the stitches she’d put into my cheek healed up.  It all seemed very strange to me, but some time in the autumn my lump disappeared (or at least got very much smaller), but now it’s back as big as ever.

Percy in the hospital suite

It doesn’t really hurt, it’s just more difficult to eat with it, because it stops me opening my mouth as wide and also I tend to eat on the other side , so my teeth wear unevenly.  Mummy’s giving me the Nutrimed again.  She says it may have helped to reduce it before and she shouldn’t have stopped giving it to me.  I didn’t mind not having it.  I don’t really like having to drink things from the syringe. Mummy says I have to be a good boy and drink it down, so I do, but still…

Anyway, enough of me.

Roscoe was in the wars at Christmas – as in Bertie dashed up to tell him Bertie was in charge and Roscoe said, “oh really?” Bertie had a good fight with him and by the time Mummy got them to stop, Roscoe had a big bite on his cheek and his back.  He’s healing well, although the cheek one has developed an abscess.

Roscoe with parsley

I don’t know why Bertie is so impossible.  I thought I’d taught him well when he lived with me.  Mummy thinks she should have left him in with me for longer, but I don’t think it would have made any difference, Mummy.  He’s just made that way.  Bossy.

Do you get Christmas presents?

There’s a lot of stuff about Christmas presents around at the moment.  I seem to remember that last year we got our blue pattern beds and tunnels.  I got the bed, and I really enjoyed it until Biggles and Bertie came along.

I realised the other day that this has been my problem, really.  I had a nice quiet life here, in a large cage on my own.  Then they came and I uncled them until they were getting feisty, and Mummy moved me (and my bed) upstairs to live with Midge. We lived next door to each other for a bit, then Biggles and Bertie fell out, and I moved in with Midge (with my bed) and Bertie came to live next door.

Midge sleeping

Most of the time Midge and I get along okay. I let him sleep on my bed and he lets me sleep in his tunnel.  Just lately he’s been bossing me a lot, and I don’t like that.  Sometimes I have to complain loudly.  Mummy gets worried about us then.

The other day we were really having arguments with each other – about who lay in the tunnel, I think -and Mummy decided to see if I should have a break.  She swapped me and Bertie over.  Bertie and Midge lasted about an hour before she decided that wasn’t working, so she put Bertie back with me. I thought it was nice of her to keep my bed with me, by the way.  She’s very thoughtful that way.

Bertie and I managed most of the day together, but towards the evening he started to get on my nerves.  He just invades my space, you know?  All the time, he wanted to sit next to me.  Or in front of me with his nose in my face.  Well eventually I had to tell him to go away, and we had a bit of an argument.

So Mummy put me back with Midge.  And my bed.

percy midge sleeping

I suppose, in the end, it’s how it must be.  Midge and I are grumping along as usual. It’s fine.

I wonder what we’re going to get for Christmas this year?  Bertie says he wants a snuggle-sac, but he’s got one he doesn’t use.  I think Midge and I could do with another bed so that we can each sleep on our own.  The boys downstairs probably don’t need much.  Some extra hay, or special herby things, perhaps.

What would you like for Christmas?

 

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Things that go bump in the night

Hello.  Bertie here.  I’ve been very good this week.  I’m always good, of course. Sometimes Mummy interprets my behaviour differently from me.  She says I’m growing up.

Apart from Oscar, who’s insufferable, I don’t argue with anyone any more.  Midge and Percy seem to be okay with me checking up on them every now and then.  Mummy laughs because I use the same hand signals as Percy.  Well, of course I do, I asked him how to tell Mummy I was ready to go for a run when I’d had my cucumber. He told me to leap up onto her coat and pat the corner where her arm joins her body.  Now I do that and she knows it’s time for my run.  It works!

Usually the morning is the most exciting time of our day.  This week it’s been the evening, after it gets dark.  There have been lots of bumps and bangs every day.  On two nights we had a series of noises going bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.  Very deliberately and evenly.  I said to Percy I wished they’d stop.  He said he wished they’d stop as well.  Then they stopped.  They started again later.  There have been other bangs and noises too.  Mummy says its fireworks, there’s nothing to worry about, and she wishes they would just stop.  We get fireworks sounds from the hotel at the end of the village every Saturday and most Thursdays.  So we know by now they’re nothing to worry about.  But these were closer, and earlier in the evening.  Percy says he remembers them from this time last year.  We just have to put up with it for about ten days.  Mummy gets very cross about it, though.

So, that’s what’s been going on this week. Except that Midge lost a lot of weight this week, a whole 100 grams. Mummy’s taking him to see Auntie Shirley and Uncle Barry in a few days time. She says he’s nearly down to a normal weight for a guinea pig, so there’s nothing to worry about.  She thinks it’s his teeth, because he had so much gungy food in his mouth she couldn’t see them. That makes sense, sort of.