When it comes to stunningly stupid customs, America has plenty of inventory but none so incredibly dumb as the annual weather prognostication by the rodent Marmota monax, also known as a groundhog, woodchuck or General Pain in the A…you get it.
From year to year I occasionally get an urge to post about Groundhog Day but, frankly, have too much self-respect. That condition never has afflicted my very good friend and fellow dog blogger Martha who wrote what I consider to be the best Groundhog Day post ever seen on WordPress.
I am happy and more than a little embarrassed to re-post her tale and recommend her blog – Walking Chester to you reprobates.
When I was two years and 19 days old my sister was born. From that day on it was my job to torment her. When we were teens, we fought over clothing, the phone, and everything else. I realized recently that the problem wasn’t that I didn’t like my sister, it’s that I wished I was more like her. She had all the traits in high school that I envied. She had friends that laughed, partied, and probably a lot more that I wouldn’t know about. She had cool clothes and long, curly hair. In college, when I talked her into going through sorority rush, she had the Pi Phis attention. The Pi Phis wouldn’t look at me. I was quieter, and not as confident. But we all grow and change. Somewhere in our metamorphosis into decent adults, the idea of Bucket List Adventures was born.
It all began a…
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Categories: The Dog From Rancho Cucaracha