No matter how much store you set in the meteorological aptitude of mid-sized rodents, Groundhog Day brings a chance for some underappreciated animals to step into the spotlight. These Southern critters are just a handful that will have their day in the sun (or shade, as the case may be) on Sunday.
Bee Cave Bob
Bee Cave, Texas
Texans don’t take weather advice from groundhogs who live in states six times smaller than theirs, but they do look to an appropriately tough (and distinctly less cuddly) animal: a nine-banded armadillo named Bee Cave Bob. In another twist, Armadillo Day predicts not only winter’s duration but the state’s partisan lean for the year.
Each February, Bob makes the journey from his home in Katy to a ranch in Bee Cave owned by Terry Boothe, where several hundred people gather to watch the armored oracle make his forecast. The event is presided over by the Benevolent Knights of the Racoon, a ragtag group of which Boothe is a founding member, which will translate Bob’s predictions to the public.
Pierre C. Shadeaux
New Iberia, Louisiana
Predicting a longer winter for a state whose temperatures sit comfortably in the mid-seventies by February doesn’t make a lot of meteorological sense. Instead, Groundhog Day in Louisiana indicates whether residents will receive an extended spring or an early summer, heralded by Pierre C. Shadeaux. If the whiskers don’t give it away, Shadeaux is actually a nutria, or “swamp rat,” a semi-aquatic rodent that is considered an invasive species in Louisiana. But “Cajun Groundhog Day” would be lost without him. Each year, his team of caretakers transports him from his home at Zooziana in Broussard to Bouligny Plaza in New Iberia, where spectators gather and hush as Shadeaux makes his prediction.
General Beauregard Lee
Jackson, Georgia
As Georgia’s Official Weather Prognosticator, this groundhog emerges from his miniature mansion—named Weathering Heights—every February to make a prediction. Beau boasts an impressive 63 percent accuracy rate, making him more credible than his northern relative Phil, whose average sits at a measly 36 percent.
Lee comes from a long line of groundhogs who have supplied the state with weather predictions since the 1980s. Despite his relocation to Dauset Trails Nature Center in Jackson (after the Yellow River Game Ranch suddenly shut down in 2017), Lee seems to be getting on just fine. With hundreds of spectators and a dwelling adorned with garlands of corn, pork sausage, and Waffle House hash browns, what groundhog wouldn’t?
Sand Mountain Sam
Boaz, Alabama
In northeastern Alabama the scruffy-haired Sand Mountain Sam, a prognosticating opossum who pops out of a whiskey barrel in search of his shadow, has been on the job since 1993. In 2022, Bama Bucks restaurant and exotic animal park in Sardis City became Sam’s home, and bluegrass bands, buck dancers, and spoon players joined the lineup. But the tradition almost ended up roadkill when authorities began cracking down on illegal opossum possession. Armed with the necessary licenses, Bama Bucks’s owner, Terry Turk, rushed to adopt one from a breeder (yes, opossum breeders exist).
In 2024, almost a thousand folks witnessed the new Sam’s forecast, requiring the event’s move to a bigger facility in Boaz. And with February 2 falling on a Sunday this year, Sam’s prediction has been moved up to January 31. “Its hillbilly flavor speaks to who we are in a fun way,” Turk says. “We’re out there cheering a possum. What’s more fun than that?”
Concord Charlie
Athens, West Virginia
For some, Groundhog Day is more an excuse to host a breakfast than try to weigh in on the weather. Such is the case in Athens, West Virginia, where Concord Charlie, a presumed groundhog, relays his prediction to the president of Concord University at their Groundhog Day Breakfast fete. That’s right: Charlie has never been witnessed by anyone except for the university president and—according to rumors—other university staff.
The attendees don’t seem too concerned, however, given that platters of pancakes and omelets roll out generously. Charlie’s supposed existence dates back to 1978, when the late professor R.T. “Tom” Hill started the breakfast as a means to celebrate a bit of Appalachian heritage and highlight the Appalachian Studies program at Concord.
Snerd
Garner, North Carolina
Following the retirement of North Carolina’s premier prognosticator, Sir Walter Wally, in 2023, the state’s roster of Groundhog Day recruits have dwindled to two. But Snerd, the local forecaster for Garner, might be the most accurate—thanks to a little help from the Weather Channel. Described as a modern-day groundhog by his handlers at the wildlife rehabilitation center CLAWS, Snerd leaves the tough work to the professionals, forgoing any shady business in favor of research from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. That way, when he appears (often in a tiny tuxedo) to the applause of those gathered at Garner’s annual Groundhog Day Celebration on February 2, he doesn’t have to do anything but enjoy the attention.
Jennifer Kornegay also contributed to this story.
