Daisy the chicken: Who goes there?

Groundhog: Why, hello there! Punxsutawney Phil here.

Daisy the chicken: Oh my goodness! (Gets star struck and faints).

Groundhog: Hello? Chicken, are you okay? (Pokes Daisy with his snout a couple of times). Oopsie. I think I scared her. To tell you the truth my friends, I am NOT Punxsutawney Phil (hee hee). I was jesting (continues poking and nursing the fainted chicken). I decided to blog here in order to put the common misconception to rest. I read that Daisy the chicken mentioned in her last blog that Punxsutawney Phil bit a mayor’s ear. However, this is false.

Allow me to elaborate. I am the biggest fan of Punxsutawney Phil. He has worked tirelessly to elevate us groundhogs to stardom. He has befriended many a mayors despite being in an extremely groggy state when he is unceremoniously yanked out of his safe spot every February to predict the onset of spring. Now before you dismiss this achievement, realize that this means he has to adjust to a whole different body temperature in minutes and then actually hold a conversation with a human. And boy, has Phil delivered! Not only has he predicted the arrival of spring with super high accuracy (he is correct a whopping 39% of the time), but also at his current age of 138 years he has outlived generations of groundhogs ( to the uninformed, our lifespan is 6 years). Yes, my friends, ol’ Phil from Punxsutawney, PA is your regular Groundhog God! (Licks chicken beak a few times to revive her).

“What about Daisy’s claim that Phil bit the mayor’s ear”, you may ask. As it turns out, the groundhog who did this is a cheap Phil wannabe. This was actually Jimmy, an “official” (smirk) groundhog of Sun Priarie, Wisconsin. Well folks. You get what you pay for. If you are going to ask some random groundhog about the weather, the said groundhog will do exactly what most of us mortals would do in that situation. We would try to rip away the offending object between us and our hibernation bed. Jimmy isn’t wrong. He just isn’t Phil. He just isn’t groundhog God. So, please, kindly stop associating paparazzi rumors with our Phil the great, who is now back in his cozy hole in Punxsutawney, PA.

Daisy the chicken: Opens eyes and stares. Wait, what?! So you are not Punxsutawney Phil? Ladies! Intruder! Attack!!