Minnesota Fat Cat stuck his head out of his hole. It had been hard to maintain an opening large enough to accommodate his considerable body, what with all the recent freezing weather. But he knew his duty and was determined to deliver.
Wriggling himself out of the hole, there was no question. More winter ahead. His shadow was crystal clear, outlined on the fresh snow. He chatted for a few minutes with a couple of squirrels out foraging for food. They agreed with Fat Cat about his weather prognostication. Shaking their heads, the squirrels moved on. They were quite tired of the cold and were discussing a possible Carribean cruise.
Fat Cat descended back into his snug quarters and turned on the TV.
WHAT! His East Coast cousins must have been drinking too much lately and it wasn't Boston tea.
Fat Cat pulled out his smart phone and texted Punxsutawney Phil. His hypothesis was correct - Phil obviously had downed a few too many. (Wanting winter to be over can do that to a ground hog). Fat Cat then dialed up Staten Island Chuck. At least Chuck was coherent. But Chuck declared his shadow had gone to the Bahamas last week for some badly needed sunshine and warmth, invalidating his promise of springtime soon on the way.
Fat Cat settled back into his sagging couch and ate another handful of buttered popcorn. Minnesotans were depending on him to be accurate. Everything from spring garden-planting to vacations in Arizona depended upon his accurate prediction.
After some deep thought and three dark chocolate bars (ground hogs are unlike dogs and cats - chocolate gives them longer lives, not chocolate poisoning). Fat Cat eased his bulk up and checked airline schedules on his computer. He certainly needed to do something about this situation.
He had heard that everything important happens in Washington DC. He bought a ticket in business class, packed light, and breezed through the TSA check. He would investigate the contradicting shadow-sightings - as every responsible citizen of this fair land is called to do when they think something is out of whack.
My goodness! It IS big! Fat Cat said as he stood at the bootom of the steps of the Rayburn Office building, where all the Representatives do their important work. He hustled up the steps and marched down long corridors and up an elevator or two, searching for the office of Keith Ellison. Keith would give him some straight answers. He knocked on the door, then pounded on it. A Security Guard told him to quiet down - that it was Saturday and no one worked on Saturday.
The idea surprised Fat Cat. He thought running the government meant working hard seven days a week.
After all, the whole world depended on the United States. He decided to try Senators Al Franken and Amy Klobuchar. He knew that they were both persons of great integrity. However, he had no luck finding either of them or any of their staff.
Since the Senators enjoyed a long tradition of delicious bean soup, he felt a warm bowlful would hit the spot - and his stomach, which was grumbling. Maybe that's where some of the Senators were.
Fat Cat was right. Although the cafeteria was almost empty, Senators Lindsey Graham. Orrin Hatch, and John McCain were huddled over a table deep in conversation. They were haggling over who should be the Secretary of Defense.
Figuring he would not get straight answers from any of them, he looked around the room and spied Senator Mitch McConnell sitting at a table all by himself - and looking very lonely. Fat Cat thought to himself Just the person I need to talk to. I've seen him on TV a lot. A very important and powerful person indeed! And maybe he wouldn't look so down-in-the-mouth if he has something important to address.
Fat Cat hurried over and stood by the Senator. Clearing his throat several times, he stated that he had an important matter to discuss. McConnell looked up. Fat Cat explained the situation to him - that there had been a great discrepancy in shadow-sightings. Senator McConnell muttered to himself, another nut to distract me from really important things, such as investigating that tornado that missed Kentucky and threw cars up in the air on the freeway in Georgia last week. The Senator said he knew just who Fat Cat should talk to and hurried across the room. Fat Cat had to work to keep up to him.
This is just the man you want to talk to. Senator Inhofe is very interested in weather phenomena. Minnesota Fat Cat felt unease growing inside of him. Searching his memory, he remembered that Senator Inhofe was the legislator who believed that climate change was a conspiracy. And since this serious business of ground hogs seeing or not seeing their shadows was real and not some hoax, Fat Cat mumbled something about pressing business elsewhere and waddled across the cafeteria as fast as he could move his furry body.
A congressional investigation by this Senator was the last thing that was needed! On the flight back home, Fat Cat continued to think more about what he could do. With Phil partying away and Chuck's shadow out of the country, causing potential havoc in the Bahamas, Fat Cat knew he needed to consult with a person with real expertise.
As the plane taxied up to the terminal, Fat Cat had his answer. He would call Paul Douglas, the Weatherman. Paul knew so much about this new normal weather-predicting. Fat Cat was certain he now had the right person. And he wouldn't have even needed to fly to Washington with the spare rations provided on the plane. A little bag of peanuts, for heaven's sake. Not enough to sustain a squirrel . . . much less a ground hog!
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