Today I would proudly like to call attention to perhaps the most important day in February: Groundhog Day. Valentine’s Day has lost its luster by high school because we’ve stopped using the big valentines in the dollar store boxes to hint to our crushes that we so totally want to walk the track with them at recess. Nowadays affection is much more convoluted, and if the loves of our lives couldn’t pick up at ten years old two heart stickers closing paper valentines meant they had our undying devotion, then I think it’s safe to say we’re all doomed to our fates on ChristianMingle by twenty. So rather than waste our time on flowers that will die and chocolates that will be made bitter by tears, let’s instead devote our energy and attention to a rodent responsible for deciding the weather. You’ll all feel much better yourselves.

Why, you ask? Well, it’s simple really. Every year, on February 2nd, poor Punxsutawney Phil is dragged from his burrow and thrust above the crowd like an awkward, buck-toothed baby Simba. He’s been doing it for 130 years so far, but I guess for an immortal groundhog that’s a twenty minute walk in the park. 130 years of service to an entire country is a lot to ask of someone, let alone a six pound gopher, so if anyone or anything deserves our love during the month of February, it’s Phil.

Even after so many years of fame, he hasn’t let the success go to his tiny, furry noggin. He graciously lets visitors come by his burrow all throughout the year, allowing yet another select group of people to drag him out so he can make his official prognostication. I don’t know about all of you, but maintaining a streak of more than 125 correct predictions sounds like a lot of pressure, and I imagine each year it only gets worse. Consider that the next time you’re stuck between A and B on a reading quiz. If lil ol’ Punxsutawney Phil can get it right after all these years, you probably have one good guess in you too.

It is important to consider that Phil is not, in fact, a god among groundhogs. He cannot manipulate the weather; he can only call the coming winter like he sees it, and quite literally at that. Whether or not he sees his shadow really can’t be helped. All of those bright lights surrounding the broadcasting that become a target for complaints are only there to help him out. Century-old eyes are not as observant as they used to be way back in 1886, so can you blame him? Phil is just trying to do his job, and not swayed by maps or diagrams or ornery winter haters, he could probably give “Hurricane” Schwartz a run for his money. #PhenomenonPhil2K16

Just think about it for a moment. Phil has already spent eight years defending his image from Gus the Groundhog; you all know the one I’m talking about. Parading around as the second most famous groundhog in Pennsylvania, he tried to take over the Pennsylvania Lottery and our hearts, but we saw through that sham. The claws were out for a while, but in the end Phil emerged as proof of the public’s loyalty, and Gus was discontinued. Anything that claims to beat immortal weatherhogs is simply blasphemous and downright wrong.

So the next time you find yourself dreading February for its cheap romance, remember the real MVP of the month, Punxsutawney Phil. Even his name rolls luxuriously (or laboriously) off the tongue. This humble rodent asks us for nothing and in return gives us the most anxiously awaited forecast of the new year. The least we can do is take a moment to recognize Pennsylvania’s favorite groundhog for such an excellent job well done. And it looks like this year Phil and I are in agreement: we’re in for an early spring, and seventeen more weeks of the Korner.