It was the morning of February 2. Normally the groundhogs would be sleeping, for weeks yet, but Phil was pacing back and forth in the burrow in a frenzy. "What's the weather going to be? Sun? Snow? Rain? Wind? It's been all over the board in recent years. Not like the good old days, oh no. It's anything goes now."
Chuck and Woody had woken up from all the pacing and were watching him. They were starting to get worried.
"Why are you so uptight about it?" asked Chuck. "Just go back to sleep already."
"Can't. Can't." Phil shook his head vigorously. "The whole world is counting on me. On ME." He paused and posed for dramatic effect. "On MEEEEEE!!!"
"Well just make something up," said Chuck.
"Great gophers. Listen to you. Just make something up. You don't understand the gravity of this situation."
"It's true I don't. What's the big deal?"
"Today the humans are going to pull me out of this burrow, and ask me what the weather's going to be, and I have to tell them! Here I am, just a humble groundhog, yet I have to be burdened with this great responsibility." Phil looked off in the distance, looking humble and burdened.
"Hey I have an idea," said Woody.
Phil stopped pacing and looked up at him. Chuck glanced over too.
"You could ask the humans!"
...
...
"Woody," said Phil kindly. "I know you're just the junior groundhog here. But that's like the worst idea in the history of bad ideas."
"I wouldn't trust one of those things to speak its own weight," opined Chuck.
"No really!" said Woody. "They're really into it nowadays. They have these weather balloons that collect measurements."
"Humans with BALLOONS" repeated Phil incredulously.
"Yeah, and they take the measurements and put them all into a big machine, and the machine churns for awhile, and then gives them a weather report!"
"Humans churning balloons with machines ..." repeated Phil.
"Yeah, and then, they have humans with colorful ropes around their necks read the reports to everyone on these square boxes! I've seen one, they said it's going to rain tomorrow!"
"Oh, I'm sure a human with a rope around its neck makes it much more reliable," said Chuck.
"Unless they're female," clarified Woody, "then they wear these low-cut skins."
"In February?" asked Chuck. Phil snorted.
"They stand on the square boxes, right?" asked Chuck.
"No, no, somehow they make themselves little and get inside them ..."
Phil and Chuck exchanged a look. "Woody," said Phil. "Woody Woody Woody. If humans were sensible creatures they'd be covered in fur like us. They wouldn't be churning up balloons with machines to predict the weather. Or wearing ropes around their necks or lowcut skins in February. And they certainly wouldn't be asking ME for the weather if they already knew what it was going to be."
"Well do you have any better ideas?" asked Woody.
"Hey," said Chuck, "what exactly is it that you're supposed to predict?"
"Whether there's going to be six more weeks of winter."
Chuck stared at him for a beat. "Of COURSE there's going to be six more weeks of winter! Or more. Can you recall spring ever, EVER, starting at the beginning of February?"
Phil thought about it. "No. As a matter of fact, no, I can't. March sometimes, usually April, but February? No."
"Well there you go. Say there will be six more weeks of winter," said Chuck.
"By gum, you're right. That's what I'll do."
There was some commotion overhead. Some human hands reached down into the burrow. Phil looked up. With resolve. It was showtime.
This was in response to my own prompt on reddit.com r/WritingPrompts, "The weather is so unpredictable! If only there were some way to tell what will happen next." It was posted on Groundhog Day, and was ignored.