♥ The St. Valenhog’s Day Massacre! ♥

I am Gil Tunxsupawney but just call me “Gil T.” And for GodHog’s sake, don’t go and confuse me for that other fella from over in the Keystone State. That is a distant branch of the family that we no longer claim. That pathetic little weasel hangs out with garden gnomes, and he’s afraid of his own dang shadow! He’s a disgrace to our kind!

February is a time to celebrate Groundhog Independence. President Hoover really hosed us when he gave us the shortest month of the year; we still ain’t forgiven him for that slight! And to make matters worse, we have to share this truncated month with a slew of other holidays. Seriously, what in the beaver dam is that about?

Valentine’s Day? Pathetic. Just another day for joes like me to be reminded just how unlovable we truly are. Cupid is dead, my friends. I should know. I offed him myself. That’s what happens when you point a weapon at me. The little love moron shoulda known better than to bring a flimsy bow and arrow to a gunfight; I blasted his little fairy butt full of lead. Serves him right! He was responsible for that whole “make love, not war” movement. I’m a Groundhog. We live for war! It’s what we do. It’s in our DNA.

And why in the heck are we still celebrating the birthdays of long-dead Presidents? Bury their carcasses, have a parade, put their faces on some greenbacks, and then call it enough. Those ol’ geezers would be hundreds of years old by now. They’ve been pushin’ up daisies for ages. Enough already! Dead critters don’t get birthday parties.

And check this: February is “National Hot Breakfast Month”, yet the first Saturday is “Eat Ice Cream For Breakfast Day”. I ain’t fecal-matterin’ you. You couldn’t make shenanigans like this up if you tried! What mental giant came up with that brilliant idea? The guy who over-indulged on “National Drink Wine Day” (February 18)?

And don’t even get me started on all the confounded February food holidays! We got “Tater Tot Day”, “Carrot Cake Day”, “Fettuccine Alfredo Day”, “Pizza Day”, “Cream Cheese Brownie Day”, “Cream-Filled Chocolates Day”, “Tarter Sauce Day”, “Sticky Bun Day”, “Pancake Day” and “National Pastry Week”, just to name a few. Talk about your heapin’ helpin’ of cardiac arrest! Should it come as a surprise to anyone that February is also “Heart Month”, or that we celebrate “Fat Tuesday” and “World Whale Day” in February? That ain’t no coincidence, Tubby Wumpkins!

Praise GodHog that 2024 is a Leap Year, affording us one extra day to celebrate our independence this year.

Now, clear your plate of all those dadgum tarter sauce sticky buns, and listen up: time for a history lesson.

Not so long ago, Groundhogs were looked upon as part of an unevolved species. We were forced into woodchucking for a living. Ever heard of the Hoover Dam or Panama Canal? Yep, built mostly by Groundhogs and Beavers. These projects were nothing more than state-sponsored slave labor, and we were treated like second-class rodents.

And we’re all familiar, I’m sure, with that stupid tongue twister, “how much wood would a woodchuck chuck . . .” (As much as we stinkin’ want to!) That tongue twister was designed as a callous mockery of Woodchucks (Groundhogs), since, due to our prominent upper incisors, we’re unable to recite that little ditty. Yeah, let’s make fun of the guy with a speech impediment. Haha, you’re real freakin’ hilarious, chuckleheads. I’m laughing my fat, furry butt off. Not!

The Valentine’s Day Love Cherubs, however, had a field day with that one. They considered themselves superior to us — part of a master species. Flealess, musically inclined, baby-soft skin, and they liked to think of themselves as cultured and refined, dining on chocolates and sipping champagne.

Cultured? Bah! You’re wearing diapers, you cloud-fluttering lamebrains!

My Great-Grandfather, Woodrow “Woody” Tunxsupawney, led the revolt of 1928. We’d had enough. You can only hold a good hog down so long before he snaps. It was a bloodbath. Little Love Cherubs shot down like sparrows at a boy scout camp. The New Bark Times referred to the events of February 2, 1928 as the St. Valenhog’s Day Massacre, and with that single bold act of bravery and savagery, our independence was won. We would play second harp to Valentine’s Day no longer.

Cherubs have learned not to venture far from their cumulus homes on St. Valenhog’s Day. They know better than to show their sweet little baby-faced mugs on our day! Any Cherubs caught casting their saccharine shadows on St. Valenhog’s Day are guaranteed not to enjoy an early Spring, but rather six more weeks of wintery despair.

And now you know the real story of St. Valenhog’s Day, not that souped-up, commercialized sewage about Groundhog Day the media feeds you. It is a day to celebrate Groundhog Independence and to pay tribute to my Great-Grandpappy, Woody T., the Patron Saint of Groundhogs!

Happy St. Valenhog’s Day, my friends.

Long Live the Groundhogs!

This is for the Facebook Group Vocal * Voices in Minor Challenge to write a short fiction story combining both Valentine’s Day and Groundhog Day