There is always a lot of fuss about the groundhog this time of year. Did he see his shadow? How much more winter will there be? Some even worry about how the poor animal is treated, wondering if he is an unhappy media captive, harassed by paparazzi that invade the creature's privacy by watching him and closely monitoring his every move.
Maybe we are watching the wrong animal. Should we be watching the raccoon? For the past few months, things have been pretty quiet around the farmyard; until recently when all eyes were intently focused on the famous rodent's burrow. That's when I noticed a four-legged masked bandit scurrying towards the barn. Not more than a half-hour later at a location more than two miles away, I found a partially-filled feed pail overturned in the calf-shed and all the cat dishes in disarray. This could only be the work of a ring-tailed culprit. It could be a coincidence that these animals were simultaneously active on the first days of February, or maybe the raccoons are getting jealous that the groundhog is receiving all the attention.
I don't know what brought them out of their wintry malaise. There hasn't been a spurt of warm weather or any other phenomena to shake off their drowsy hibernation. Raccoons aren't the only species that have become more active. The tomcat alarm clock must have gone off. Up to this point they've been content to stay close to home, sleeping on bale piles in the afternoon sun and frequenting the designated table-scrap distribution area. They are now on the rove. I've seen some new whiskered faces slinking through the sheds and along the shoveled pathways. Their familiar war cry and random tufts of loose fur provide evidence of power struggles between dominant males.
This increased animal activity could be explained by the full wolf moon; unusual behavior of all kinds can be blamed on lunar phases. That might be an explanation, but I'm wondering if the wildlife has merely figured out how popular groundhogs get when humans feel like they can't endure the cold weather any longer. They all want some credit for having some intelligence and want to be part of the prediction process. Whether we watch the groundhog or a raccoon or our feline friends, it isn't going to matter. We know it is going to be cold in Iowa for quite a while yet, but the goofy tradition is a welcome distraction. It's a sign that our sense of humor hasn't chilled and proof that hope isn't frozen over.
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There is always a lot of fuss about the groundhog this time of year. Did he see his shadow? How much more winter will there be? Some even worry about how the poor animal is treated, wondering if he is an unhappy media captive, harassed by paparazzi that invade the creature's privacy by watching him and closely monitoring his every move.
Maybe we are watching the wrong animal. Should we be watching the raccoon? For the past few months, things have been pretty quiet around the farmyard; until recently when all eyes were intently focused on the famous rodent's burrow. That's when I noticed a four-legged masked bandit scurrying towards the barn. Not more than a half-hour later at a location more than two miles away, I found a partially-filled feed pail overturned in the calf-shed and all the cat dishes in disarray. This could only be the work of a ring-tailed culprit. It could be a coincidence that these animals were simultaneously active on the first days of February, or maybe the raccoons are getting jealous that the groundhog is receiving all the attention.
I don't know what brought them out of their wintry malaise. There hasn't been a spurt of warm weather or any other phenomena to shake off their drowsy hibernation. Raccoons aren't the only species that have become more active. The tomcat alarm clock must have gone off. Up to this point they've been content to stay close to home, sleeping on bale piles in the afternoon sun and frequenting the designated table-scrap distribution area. They are now on the rove. I've seen some new whiskered faces slinking through the sheds and along the shoveled pathways. Their familiar war cry and random tufts of loose fur provide evidence of power struggles between dominant males.
This increased animal activity could be explained by the full wolf moon; unusual behavior of all kinds can be blamed on lunar phases. That might be an explanation, but I'm wondering if the wildlife has merely figured out how popular groundhogs get when humans feel like they can't endure the cold weather any longer. They all want some credit for having some intelligence and want to be part of the prediction process. Whether we watch the groundhog or a raccoon or our feline friends, it isn't going to matter. We know it is going to be cold in Iowa for quite a while yet, but the goofy tradition is a welcome distraction. It's a sign that our sense of humor hasn't chilled and proof that hope isn't frozen over.
