Sammy the Squirrel Saves Snacks E-Book

Kelly Johnson

• Herausgeber: Kelly Johnson
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 102

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Sammy the Snack-Stashing Squirrel follows the clever and meticulous squirrel, Sammy, who takes immense pride in collecting and organizing his winter stash of acorns, berries, and seeds high in his favorite oak tree. His quiet morning of inspecting and perfecting his treasure is disrupted when a group of sneaky raccoons discovers his carefully guarded supplies. As Sammy prepares to protect his prized snacks, the story sets the stage for a lively woodland adventure full of clever maneuvers, unexpected visitors, and the promise of new friendships and challenges that test Sammys wit, bravery, and love for his treasured hoard.

Leseprobe

IMPRESSUM

Sammy the Squirrel Saves Snacks

Author: Kelly Johnson

© 2025 Kelly Johnson.

All rights reserved.

Author: Kelly Johnson

Contact: 903 W Woodland Ave, Kokomo, IN 46902

Email: [email protected]

Disclaimer

This eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Sammy’s Snack Stash

Chapter 2: A Sneaky Visitor

Chapter 3: The Trail of Clues

Chapter 4: Friends in the Forest

Chapter 5: The Raccoon Hideout

Chapter 6: The Snack Rescue Plan

Chapter 7: A Risky Rescue

Chapter 8: Trouble on the Trail

Chapter 9: Safe at Last

Chapter 10: Lessons Learned

Sammy the Squirrel Saves Snacks

By: Kelly Johnson

Chapter 1: Sammy’s Snack Stash

Sammy the squirrel was no ordinary squirrel. His fur was a shiny chestnut brown, catching the sunlight in warm, golden glints, and his tail was bushy and curled like a fluffy question mark, always twitching with excitement as he darted about. But what made Sammy truly special wasn’t just his speed or his nimble paws—it was his clever mind and his unmatched love for collecting snacks. Every acorn he found, every plump berry, and even the tiniest seed became part of his carefully curated winter stash, each item chosen, sorted, and stored with precision only Sammy could manage.

On this crisp autumn morning, the forest was alive with the quiet hum of a new day. The sun peeked slowly over the horizon, spilling warm shades of gold, amber, and rose across the treetops. Each leaf seemed to glow in its own private spotlight, and the gentle shafts of sunlight made dew drops on the forest floor sparkle like a scattering of tiny diamonds. The air smelled fresh and earthy, a mingling of damp soil, pine needles, and the faint sweetness of ripening berries hidden among the underbrush. A soft breeze whispered through the branches, carrying with it the distant chirps of bluebirds greeting the day, the faint rustle of leaves as squirrels scampered about their morning business, and the occasional plink of acorns tumbling to the ground.

Sammy’s bright eyes sparkled as he bounded through the forest, his little chest puffed with excitement. Each step was a joyful rhythm against the mossy ground—he zigzagged between gnarled roots that twisted like ancient fingers, hopped over slippery, dew-kissed stones, and slid down the trunks of fallen trees with the ease of a practiced acrobat. Sunlight streamed through the canopy in warm, golden beams, dappling the forest floor in moving patches of light that danced along with him. Birds chirped cheerfully from above, and the occasional flutter of a butterfly or rustle of a squirrel foraging nearby made him giggle with delight.

Every movement was fluid, precise, almost as if the forest itself had shaped a secret playground just for him. His paws twitched in anticipation, soft whiskers quivering at the slightest breeze, while his nose sniffed eagerly, catching the myriad scents of the morning: the crisp tang of frost still clinging to shaded grass, the sweet, hidden juiciness of early berries nestled among the underbrush, the warm, comforting smell of sun-heated bark, and even the faint, earthy aroma of recently disturbed soil. He paused briefly to sniff at a patch of wild mint that had sprouted near the base of a tree, and his tiny tongue flicked over the leaves, savoring the sharp, fresh taste.

Today, he thought with a gleam in his eye, today he would check on his beloved snack stash—his treasure trove, his pride, his little kingdom tucked high in the oak tree, safe and secret. He imagined the piles of acorns and berries awaiting him, each meticulously stacked, each one a reward for his careful foraging and long hours of collecting. His tail flicked with excitement, curling and uncurling like a living banner of anticipation.

High in the twisting, sturdy branches of his favorite oak tree, Sammy’s stash truly was a marvel. Each pile of acorns was stacked like miniature towers, meticulously balanced as if built by a tiny, perfectionist architect. The smallest acorns were carefully nestled at the edges, forming a delicate border that framed the larger, more regal acorns standing proudly in the center like royal sentinels. He ran a tiny paw along the topmost layer, gently nudging one slightly askew acorn back into place, feeling a small, satisfying click as it settled perfectly.

The berries were arranged with almost ceremonial precision. Ruby-red ones glimmered like polished garnets beside clusters of sapphire-blue, while golden berries peeked shyly from hidden nooks, almost as if daring anyone who stumbled upon them to find the secret corners. A tiny breeze ruffled their smooth skins, making them glisten in the sunlight like miniature lanterns set carefully along the branches. Even the seeds, small and shiny, reflected the morning light in a thousand sparkling points, catching gold and pink from the rising sun and scattering it across the bark in a delicate, glittering pattern.

Sammy hopped from branch to branch, running his tiny paws over each pile, tapping here, nudging there, and occasionally tilting his head critically, as if examining a miniature museum exhibit. He whispered to himself as he worked, murmuring details like a curator cataloging precious artifacts: “No, no, this one needs to be slightly closer… the blue berries need more space… the seeds, perfect, perfect…” His tail flicked with satisfaction every time a pile looked just right, curling and uncurling as if applauding his own handiwork.

He paused at the very top of the oak, where the most prized berries were tucked beneath a careful barrier of twigs and dry leaves. Peering beneath the cover, Sammy let out a small, triumphant squeak. Each berry was perfectly plump, their juicy scent mingling with the earthy aroma of the oak. He imagined himself as a guardian, a tiny protector of treasures, and the thought filled him with a warm glow of pride and purpose. The forest seemed to settle around him, the rustle of leaves and distant bird songs forming a quiet symphony in honor of his little kingdom and the careful care he took to maintain it.

For a long moment, Sammy simply sat, paws resting lightly on the branches, whiskers twitching, tail curled around him. The sun rose higher, casting longer shadows and painting the leaves in gold and amber hues. The forest stretched and shimmered around him, and he felt perfectly at home—his treasures safe, his acorns and berries gleaming, and his heart full of pride for all the careful work he had done to protect his little corner of the woodland world.

At the very top of the oak, tucked beneath a protective layer of dry leaves and cleverly barricaded with tiny twigs, was Sammy’s most prized hiding spot. The juiciest berries he had gathered over the last few weeks were carefully shielded from view. He peeked beneath the leafy cover, whiskers twitching, and nodded with satisfaction. No prying eyes—or paws—would find them here, not unless someone was as clever as Sammy himself. He let out a happy squeak and sat back for a moment, tail curling around him like a soft, furry question mark. In that quiet, sunlit morning, perched above the forest floor, he felt a warm sense of pride and purpose. This wasn’t just a collection of snacks—it was a treasure, a kingdom he had built for himself, and today, he would ensure it remained safe and perfect.

The forest around him seemed to hum in response, the gentle sway of branches, the flutter of wings, and the occasional chatter of woodland creatures creating a symphony of life. Sammy’s bright eyes sparkled as he imagined himself a tiny guardian, a vigilant protector of acorns, berries, and seeds, ready for any challenge that might come his way. And with a joyful leap, he began inspecting each pile once more, savoring the morning sunlight, the scent of the forest, and the thrill of being the cleverest little squirrel in the woods.

He hopped from branch to branch with nimble grace, his paws barely making a sound on the rough bark. He paused at each pile, tapping and nudging, adjusting here, straightening there, until every little treasure was exactly where it should be. Occasionally, he tilted his head, whiskers twitching thoughtfully, and examined the piles from different angles as if critiquing his own work. Even the small piles of fallen leaves he had placed around the stash to disguise it were fluffed and rearranged, ensuring nothing looked out of place. The satisfaction of order, of knowing that every acorn, every berry, every shiny seed had its rightful spot, made him squeak happily with pride.

At the very top of the oak, where the branches twisted tightly together and only the cleverest climbers dared venture, was Sammy’s most prized hiding spot. Beneath a careful layer of dry leaves and secured by a delicate barrier of twigs, lay the juiciest, plumpest berries he had gathered over the past weeks. Their deep red skins glowed faintly in the filtered sunlight, and the aroma of their ripeness filled the air around him. Sammy crouched low, peering under the leaves, ensuring that no curious eye—or paw—could find them. He even added a few extra leaves in a casual scatter, making it look as though no berries were hidden at all.

Sammy let out a little squeak of joy, his whiskers twitching with excitement, and for a moment he closed his eyes, imagining himself as the tiny guardian of a magnificent forest treasure. He pictured the acorns as fortresses, the berries as sparkling jewels, and the seeds as shining coins in a miniature treasure hoard. The thought of protecting all of this, keeping it safe from prying eyes or mischievous paws, filled him with a profound sense of purpose and delight. He puffed up his chest proudly, tail twitching like a question mark full of curiosity and determination.

Leaning back against a thick branch, Sammy surveyed his kingdom—the branches stretching out in all directions, leaves whispering in the gentle breeze, sunlight spilling golden across his carefully arranged treasures. The forest around him felt alive and full of possibilities, and Sammy felt that thrilling mix of pride, joy, and anticipation that only a squirrel with a truly magnificent stash could feel.

He let out a final happy squeak, imagining all the adventures yet to come, the berries he might discover, the acorns that might tumble into his paws, and the little surprises the forest held just for him. And there, perched high above the forest floor, Sammy the squirrel, guardian of snacks, felt completely, wonderfully at home.

But as he settled among his piles, sniffing and nudging his precious snacks, a sudden sound made his ears perk straight up. A rustle—soft but deliberate—came from the branch below, and Sammy froze. The forest was usually calm this time of morning, with only the songs of birds and the whisper of the breeze. His paws twitched nervously. Had another squirrel found his stash? Or worse… someone who didn’t know the rules of snack respect? Sammy’s clever mind raced, already forming a plan to protect his treasures while keeping them organized.

He took a careful peek over the edge of his branch. Nothing. Just the morning sun spilling through the leaves, the shadows of swaying branches, and a few curious insects flitting past. Sammy exhaled in relief, but his heart still pounded with the thrill of guarding something so precious. He flicked his tail, gave a triumphant squeak, and settled back among his carefully arranged piles, already imagining a long, cozy winter filled with warm naps and a bounty of snacks that were all his own.

Little did Sammy know, this morning’s calm would soon be interrupted by sneaky visitors—and that his clever mind and brave heart would be tested like never before.

“Ah, perfect as always,” Sammy whispered to himself, his chest puffing with pride. “No one could ever find this stash without my clever eyes noticing.”

But just as he was about to settle down for a small nibble, a faint rustle came from below. Sammy’s ears twitched sharply. “Hmm?” he murmured, crouching low on the branch. The wind? Another squirrel? Or—oh no—maybe a raccoon! His heart thumped a little faster as he peered down. The forest floor looked calm, but something didn’t feel quite right.