My daily view, minus the other three cats who lay in wait for prime viewing spots. Bella watches on this summer morning as Hoover the squirrel arrives late to find what Fred the chipmunk couldn’t fit into his elasticized cheeks. Fred had likely just waddled down into his burrow under the porch. Hoover knows Fred’s furry when his meditative munching is interrupted. Fred may be small, but he’s mighty; a Chosen One in his own right.

The next shot is of Hoover on a hot afternoon, cooling down on the stone. Kirby the squirrel, who has only half of his tail remaining, is notably absent, likely he was doing the backstroke in the water fountain on the other side of the porch.

Then of course is Fred. He usually wakes, scrambles up to his perch to overlook his kingdom and call out to the others before bolting up to see what the Nut Fairy has bestowed upon his morning.

Fred’s cheeks get so full that they bounce and drag on the stone as he makes it into his burrow below, scraping the hair off the bottom of his cheeks.