Well, the little critter will be poking his head out soon, and if you don’t like his prediction, you can at least cook and eat the son of a gun.

You know, I never noticed recipes like this before I moved to Kentucky. Funny how your environment can change you.

Now, I have groundhogs living within eyesight of my front yard, and if the S H’s The F, they may just end up smoked, pulled, and smothered in the Irish Woman’s signature barbecue sauce.

MMMM, barbecue rodent.