Bertie's Third Birthday

Bertie is the youngest of my pair.  And she's turning three.  Goodness.

Bertie and I had a rough time last summer.  I felt so bad that I was too sick to deal with her illness when I first thought something was wrong.  I'm so glad she pulled through.  This summer we're both much better.  

Bertie is still a very timid pig (as we discovered with this photo shoot).  Even so, she's warmed up a lot over the years.  On the surface, she's still the utterly cute ditzy-dope of her namesake.  I'm starting to suspect that's an act; Bertie appears to be the more intelligent of my pair of pigs.  She has learned how to beg on command (although if she's too scared, she'll refuse to do it).  She has also learned that if she sits still in the cozy that the Girls Next Door will hold her nicely, and being fawned over really isn't that bad.  And, of course, she picked up how to properly chew bars from Willow.

Bertie found her voice over the last year.  I find her chortling around the cage and have occasionally been surprised by a wheek that isn't Pinni.  Bertie still prefers biting the bars, though, to get my attention in the kitchen.  Neither one of these dopes have figured out how to do the full-blown I AM STARVING wheek like some of my previous pigs.

Of course, her big accomplishment this year was regaining her rightful place in the hay rack.  After a long and drawn out battle, I had to concede the hay rack was hers to do with as she pleased.

Happy Birthday, Bertie, my little feckless, yet determined, little pig.