My two cats, Fynn and Rushdie, have totally different characters. Fynn, the younger one, is totally a morning kinda guy. Up at the crack of dawn, meowing outside my bedroom door, he can't wait to get out into the garden below and start enjoying the day. Rushdie doesn't do mornings. She ignores Fynn, ignores me. Highly communicative, affectionate and lively later in the day, the early morning finds her still dozy on her favourite armchair.
Early morning yawn from Rushdie.
Fynn chasing the laundry.