The sun warmed her whiskers as the blind woodchuck relaxed in the meadow. Closing her eyes, Philomena sighed deeply and was grateful for spring, the season of renewal. She was wondering what her next big adventure would be now that she was retired, when she heard snickering above her face and sat up just in time to catch a couple of rabbits getting ready to poke her with a stick. They shrieked and leaped into the bushes, one of them giggling back at her, “Sorry! We thought you were dead!” They then proceeded to mate right in front of her. Honestly, sometimes it was like the porn channel out here.

No one recognized her anymore. She had been replaced as the furry weather savant on Groundhog’s Day and was dismayed when no one realized it was her cousin Kevin who was making up shit now about his shadow. Apparently, some people think all woodchucks look alike, which seemed a little bit racist to her. 

The woodchuck had been an exemplary representative of her species and felt slighted that no one remembered her. She crawled down into her burrow and thought about going back into hibernation when she heard the ping notification of a text. She was stunned to see that she had been selected to be in the National Directory of Famous Rodents! All she needed to do was send them $100 and a short biography, and she would be immortalized next to other famous rat-like creatures such as Micky Mouse and the Rodents of Unusual Size from The Princess Bride.

She had never heard of this book before, but it must be legitimate. Only a few words were spelled wrong on their website, so that was a good sign. This would be her legacy! She would keep this book on her coffee table and casually leave it open to the page that featured her.

There were two problems here: number one, she had no money. But she did have her cousin’s credit card, and she was certain that Shirley would be happy to pay for this tribute to the woodchuck’s weather predicting skills. 

The second problem was a little more complicated. She needed to write a bio for the book, and she couldn’t hold a pencil. This lack of opposable thumbs was so annoying sometimes. If only there were a way to get someone to do it for her . . .

Shirley had told her about this new technology that could do exactly that! Quickly, she opened up the link her cousin had sent her and punched in a few pertinent details that she wanted mentioned. To her astonishment, the screen immediately filled with glowing praise! 

“Meet Whiskers, the remarkable blind woodchuck who has become a legendary figure in the world of weather prediction. Despite losing his sight at a young age due to a tragic accident, Whiskers developed an extraordinary ability to forecast the weather, particularly on the momentous occasion of February 2nd each year. This incredible talent earned him the esteemed title of the “Weather Prognosticator Extraordinaire.”

It went on and on for six paragraphs, finally concluding with:

“Beyond his weather-predicting prowess, Whiskers has become an inspiration to many. His resilience in the face of adversity reminds us that even when faced with challenges, we can overcome them and thrive. He serves as a powerful symbol of the indomitable human spirit and the boundless wonders of nature.”

The woodchuck was stunned. She had no idea she had been such an inspiration to the world. Sure, the bot had misgendered her but that wasn’t a big deal—she could just change her pronouns. It also seemed to think that she was really blind, as opposed to just short-sighted, but she always wore her shades so who was she to correct people? The biggest problem was that her name now was apparently Whiskers, but she could put up with that since society seemed to have benefited from her in such a grand way. Then there was this:

“His intuitive understanding of weather patterns has even led to breakthroughs in scientific research, furthering our understanding of climate and the interconnectedness of the natural world.”

Apparently, she had solved climate change. Who knew?

The woodchuck felt revitalized, full of energy and ready to continue to spread her good deededness around the world. 

Her first act would be to get some new business cards printed up; they would read:

Weather Prognosticator Extraordinaire!

The parts of this column in bold blue were generated by ChatGPT.

The woodchuck is grateful for the help in writing this post, but kind of terrified for the world as the robot overlords are clearly already here.


A writer/designer whose interests include Broadway, natural phenomenons, and procrastination. This is demonstrated by writing a blog instead of finishing the book I am supposed to be finishing. Also like cats. The woodchucks is me; I am the woodchuck.

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