"Ok campers, rise and shine, and don't forget your booties 'cause it's coooold out there today." — Groundhog Day (1993)

Date: February 2nd, 2018

Occasion: Groundhog Day

Observed By: United States, Canada, and Germany

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XL | Scaredy Hog

Brown everywhere. Where am I? What am I doing? My body is cold. Nearly as cold as snow. I have touched snow before. In what the humans call winter. I remember winter. There are snowflakes and frost covering the grass and flowers. I do not like it. Winter is when I sleep. I sleep for months. My heartbeat slows. Are my heartbeats supposed to be slow? I think they are. Humans have another name for this. Hi-ber-something. A place. I hear them talk about it when they think I am not listening. A country. A nation. Hi-ber-nation.

Humans do not hibernate. At least, I do not think they do. They sleep when the sun is below the moon and the moon is above the sun. They do things when the sun shines. I also do things when the sun shines. In the summer. When the weather is hot and plants grow. I eat plants. I like plants. The humans who grow them do not like me. They pour water on their crops. But the water smells strange. It clogs my snout. I feel dizzy when I try to get near my food.

I cannot eat when the humans know I am there. I wonder whether I can grow my own plants. Then I can be happy and the humans can be happy. But plants do not grow underground. They like the sun more than they like me. That makes me sad. But at least I have my burrow for company. My home. Humans say the world is their oyster. My burrow is my oyster.

I slowly stretch out my legs. They have not moved for a long time. They feel tight and stubby. But they work. They move me. That is what matters. I look around. I see soil and dirt. I love my burrow. It is nice and cozy. It protects me from the humans. But I have woken up. That must mean the world is ready to see me again.

I snuffle softly and dig my paws into the dirt. I move sideways and meet a tunnel. Then I latch my claws on the wall of the tunnel and scurry up. Burrow. Burrow. Burrow. It feels like it is taking forever. But only a minute has passed. I must be deep down in my cozy burrow. I scurry towards the surface. Dirt is everywhere. It is muddy and brown. The same color as a squirrel I met.

I think it was a squirrel. I do not know. It was spring at the time. The squirrel plucked an acorn off a branch. I was on the ground. It looked down at me. I looked up at it. We stared at each other. Then the squirrel leaped off the tree with the acorn. I thought it was going to die. But it was fine. It landed on its feet. It squeaked at me. I do not know whether it said hello or goodbye or something in between. It scampered away. Did I scare it? It was probably for the better. I prefer working alone. I do not have friends. The only time I meet my kind is when I wish to mate.

I do not want a mate. Not yet. I enjoy the peace of being alone. My future mate must be waiting for me. She must be getting impatient. But it does not matter. I just want to see the sun again. It burns white in the winter and yellow in the summer. Yellow is nice. It is the same color as the flowers that grow here each year. Sunshine yellow. Humans pick them and give them to their mates. They put their lips together. I do not know why. Human lips must taste good.

I keep moving up. I can sense that I am near the surface. I always thought that the world was up and down. But humans also move left and right. Nation to nation. There is land and there is sea. Humans cannot swim across seas. They travel across countries using hunks of metal. Airplanes. Planes in the air. I sometimes see airplanes whizzing above my head as I eat. I used to wonder whether they were putting on a show. The smoke that pours out of the airplanes look like clouds. They are funny shapes too. Some are lines. Some are blobs. Some look like squirrels.

I hear humans say I am in Pen-cil-vay-ne-ya. Whatever Pen-cil-vay-ne-ya is. Humans use pencils. They write on white sheets. I cannot hold a pencil. When I first saw a pencil, I tried to eat it. Then I realized that pencils are wood. Wood is from trees. I cannot eat trees. I can eat what grows on trees. Fruits. Red and yellow and blue and green and purple. I love berries. Squishy and sweet and juicy. I can find berries when I reach the surface.

I wonder when I will reach the surface.

Oh.

Never mind.

I see light.

I must be at the surface.

I bound upwards with a great leap and emerge from my tunnel. The clouds are nowhere to be seen. The sun is glowing yellow though. That must be a good sign. I glance left. Then right. I make sure not to look up. Sun is bad for my eyes. Humans wear sunglasses. They are smart. Smarter than me. Also bigger. How have they not crushed me with their giant feet? They must be agile. I feel sorry for the grass they step on. The grass must always be in pain.

Wait.

What is that?

It is dark grass. I can still see the blades of grass. But grass does not grow that dark. It is an outline. Outside the outline is normal grass. What does the outline show? It is a shape. A strange shape covered in fur. Like a fat squirrel. But it does not have any features of a squirrel. It is a dark blob. Also flat. It moves when I move. It must be haunting me.

Oh no.

It must be following me.

I will be safer underground. I hear humans say that they will have six more weeks of winter if I go back into my burrow. But I do not care. I am scared of being followed. The dark outline does not exist underground. Maybe because the sun is not there. My burrow does not have sun. I must go back to my burrow. I will be safe there. Away from the dark shape. I did not know Pen-cil-vay-ne-ya was so dangerous. The humans did not warn me.

I dive back down into the tunnel. I swivel my head left and right. The light is gone and so is the dark outline. I am safe. But I do not feel safe until I am back in my burrow. I scamper deeper down. I could get away faster if I let gravity drag me down. But I could also get hurt. Dirt that is packed together can hurt when I land on it. I cannot risk it. I cling to the walls of the tunnel and scurry towards my burrow. There is no sun. Just brown. I like brown. Brown is a familiar color.

I guess I should stay here longer. Maybe my stalker will get bored and find someone else to pursue. Then I can find some food. Maybe the humans will forget to put the smelly liquid on my food. Then I can feast. But for now, I am happy in my burrow, where no one can find me. I may not be brave enough to face dark outlines, but I can survive for longer with food. I am happy here. Below the earth. Just hi-ber-nating and minding my own business. The humans have no use for me.

I am, after all, just a groundhog.