More Baby Groundhogs

You gotta love 'em.

I can't get enough of the baby groundhogs; they are shining stars in the universe in which I dwell.  If the strongest super powers were doled out to the cutest, then these would be very powerful baby groundhogs indeed.  They are charming the world.  I believe strongly that, the three of them together, are ready to rule Earth in its entirety: including all of its inhabitants.  I'd compare them to the Kennedys, but the thought of any of them being assassinated is one that I cannot bear.
As the baby groundhogs wait to come into power, they continue to be cute.  The three of them seem to have a favorite bush.  They stand on their hindquarters and reach for its branches.  Perhaps the leaves of the bush are very tasty, or maybe, instead of being cat nip, they are some sort of groundhog nip.  Two of them played near this bush.  They played just like puppies would.  They sniffed each other, pawed playfully at each other, and showed off their bellies while lying on their backs.  This bush is located right in front of an apartment building.  At least one of the baby groundhogs seems to want her own apartment.  She climbs the steps to the door, frequently pausing on the first one with her rear paws on the sidewalk and her front paws on the step.  Once she gets to the door, it looks like she's trying to figure out a way to get inside.
At least one of the baby groundhogs is aware of my presence.  I was walking to my building when I saw one out in the open: munching on grass.  She saw me and ran toward some bushes as I said, "Hi baby groundhog."  Perhaps that is the same baby groundhog who seemed to notice me as I was staring at them from one of my windows while only wearing a pair of boxer briefs.  I waved to her, and it seemed like she reacted to that.  Therefore, I decided to dance a little, in an effort to entertain her.  She promptly ran behind the bush.  Perhaps she wasn't quite ready to see me dancing in my underwear.    
I heard a bird chirping away near my bedroom window, so I went over there to chirp back at her.  She didn't seem to mind my chirping, so I clapped my hands together a few times.  She left the windowsill.  She wasn't the only one startled by my clapping.  I caught a glimpse of three groundhog butts as they made their way into the cover that the vegetation would provide.
The baby groundhogs are very curious and playful.  They like to explore their neighborhood.  One of them scurried to her mommy, who rewarded her with a sweet nuzzle.  One of them tried to climb a yellow fire hydrant.  When climbing didn't work, she jumped: trying to catch the ledge.  She missed and fell on her butt.  She recovered immediately, so she didn't seem to be hurt at all.  After all, she's not Michael Jordan; she didn't jump very far.  That groundhog will conquer that fire hydrant, and once she does, even the sky would dare not limit her.  She, and her siblings, will be able to do anything they set their minds to.  She's not afraid of heights; perhaps she'll be the first groundhog astronaut.