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!

 

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Percy pig in the hay box

My Grand Day Out

PercyPercy here. With lump.

Mummy took me out for the day in the car on Friday. We went a very long way, then we stopped for a short while and then Mummy came back and had a cup of coffee.  Then we went on to see Dr Simon in Northampton at the Cat and Rabbit Care Clinic (but they like guinea pigs too).  The was a cat in Reception when we arrived, and a rabbit came out of the vet’s room before we went in to see him.

Dr Simon was very nice. He gave me a cuddle, called me ‘sweetie’ and examined my lump and my teeth. He moved my bottom jaw around to see if I could line my incisors up, which I can, but it takes work, so I leave it a bit sideways if I’m not actually eating something.  He and Mummy talked about my lump while he did that.

Then he took me into another room and wrapped me up to give me a tooth checkover, just like Uncle Barry does.  He told me my teeth were good, he just had to smooth off the outsides of the top ones as a bit of a preventative.  Then we went back to Mummy and he told her what he had done.  Mummy asked lots of questions about eating and stuff.  She seemed content with his answers.  I went back into my box to rest again while they talked.

Then I came home again, and it was still a long way.  We stopped again.  Oh I forgot to say, I think Mummy has a friend in the car but I never saw her.  She started saying things to Mummy after the first stop, when we were on our way to Dr Simon.  Then she stopped talking when we got near Kings Lynn on the way home.  I ignored her at first, but then I discovered she mainly said odd things like “Enter the roundabout and take the second exit.”  When she said that the car would do one of those triple sways, so I started to get used to the warning and the sways. I don’t know where she went after Kings Lynn.  I don’t remember Mummy stopping again to let her out. I spent most of the journey underneath my bed, because that made the noise quieter.

Mummy’s giving me Metacam twice a day now, but otherwise nothing’s changed. Dr Simon told her that Metacam seems to have an inhibiting effect on sarcomas. I’m sure that’s what he said, because I was listening hard, in case Mummy didn’t remember.  But she obviously did because she gave me some Metacam as soon as I got home, along with another slice of cucumber.

I must admit, although I was tired after my day out, I felt good on Saturday.  Until the evening.  Then I started feeling really weird and my body starting twitching.  Mummy was worried about me, and took me out for a cuddle, which felt good and I relaxed, but then the twitching started again. It went on half the night, and I was very tired in the morning, but Mummy was pleased to see I was okay, sort of.  She thinks I might have had a funny turn, probably linked to my lump – which seems to have grown AGAIN.  He’s a picture of me on Sunday morning.  My lower jaw is even further over, and I’m drooping a bit.  That lump is getting heavy.

In fact, I’m not feeling too well this morning. I hope you’re okay today.

Update on Roscoe: he’s doing okay.  His scar is a bit swollen at each end, but Mummy’s treating it just like Dr Sally said. Otherwise he looks fine, and the hair’s growing back.

The dentist visited us

We had a visit from the guinea pig dentists on Thursday.  Auntie Shirley and Uncle Barry were coming to see Mummy and they brought their dentist kit.  They were trained by the Cambridge Cavy Trust to do our teeth without anaesthetic, which the vets don’t like, apparently, but it was okay and soon done, and we didn’t have to be in our boxes to be driven anywhere (especially to the noisy vets with all those barking, yelping and crying dogs).

First to be done were Midge and Kevin.  Midge has had comments about his teeth on both his last vet visits, but they were comments about the opposite sides of his mouth, so Mummy knew something was self-correcting.  Apparently his teeth were a little long, and had mostly done too much wearing away of the top ones, so they’ve been adjusted to get them better balanced.

Kevin was very glad not to be driven to see them.  He’s been to see them a couple of times and he says it’s a LONG way.  Mummy says it’s not as far as the Cambridge Cavy Trust, which is where George had to go, and George used to get car sick.  Poor George.  I don’t mind going in the car.  I’ve only done short journeys though.

Kevin’s teeth were more or less fine, but he fussed a bit about having them done, until he realised Auntie Shirley wasn’t going to let him go.  His front teeth are fine again, too.

Oscar’s teeth were one of the things Mummy wanted checked because he’s not been eating hay and he’s been drinking a lot and losing weight.  Uncle Barry said he had very long front molars, but the back ones were fine, so maybe he couldn’t move the hay through to the back.  He sorted him out and when Oscar came back, he started eating the fresh hay Mummy gave us.  Then he went and sulked in the corner.

Then I had mine looked at and I didn’t like it at all.  I tried wriggling a lot and Auntie Shirley told me all the others had been very calm, and what was my problem?  Well, I didn’t like it, that was my problem.  But Uncle Barry took some sharp corners off the front of my molars and they do feel better now. So I suppose it was worth it.

Thank you, Auntie Shirley and Uncle Barry, and thank you for treating Mummy to lunch and staying for tea and talking about books.  Books are good.

Yay! It’s February!

That means we might go out in the garden next month.  Some years we have, only for an hour or even half an hour, if it’s been dry, sunny and warm enough. We often do go out in March.  I don’t remember if we did last year, I remember it was cold and wet, or at least the grass was, in fact it was late April before we went out regularly.

Out with the snowdrops

Oh, Mummy’s found a picture that shows we went out for a short while in February 2015, just me and Dougall.  You can see the snowdrops in the foreground and the white stuff over the leafy plants to protect them from frosts.  And Dougall in front of our fleecy tunnel. I miss Dougall.

We haven’t had many frosts this year.  Just a few a couple of weeks back and some before Christmas. Mummy’s been bringing grass in from the garden for us, though.  It’s not as nice as it can be, but it’s not bad.  It’s beginning to taste sweet like it does in spring.  Some of it.  I think it depends what part of the garden she gets it from.  I like grass.  It’s my favourite.  I’m off carrots at the moment, they’re too hard to crunch.  Mummy says my teeth need attention and she’s going to take me to see Uncle Barry and Auntie Shirley soon.

Oh dear.

Teeth are perfect, thanks

Mummy said my front teeth looked a little long when she did my weekly check on Saturday.  She said my weight was good, though.  She asked me about my breathing – I still wheeze when I’m lying in certain positions, but not badly or loudly, so I told her no, I didn’t need the Vick stuff.  She looked through my coat to make sure I didn’t have any unwanted visitors (I could have told you I didn’t) but she said that Midge had a suspicious spot which could be mites, so she wasn’t taking any chances.  Well, that’s fair enough.

Then she rolled me onto my back and asked me to let her measure my teeth.  I don’t like that, but eventually I agreed she could.  She had a card which shows the average length for top and bottom incisors.  She said my lower incisors were too long, just as she suspected.  My upper molars were all right but a little crooked.  So she trimmed my lower ones and filed my upper ones.  Well she trimmed the lower ones on Saturday and filed the upper ones on Sunday because I wasn’t standing (or even lying) for any more of this business than I could help.  When she checked them today she said she might have to file the lower ones if they weren’t completely right by Wednesday, so I could gnaw my wooden ball and my grassy tunnel and my cardboard tubes to get them right if I didn’t want her messing with them.

Okay, Mummy, I get the message.

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