Every February 2 since 1887, a groundhog named Phil has made an appearance before a group of tuxedo- and top hat–wearing local gentlemen in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. In earlier decades, the reason the little rodent may have been tempted to dive back into the ground had nothing to do with six more weeks of winter—or Bill Murray having a midlife crisis—but rather with the very legitimate danger that some of the spectators might be planning to eat him. “There was a time not too long ago when eating groundhog was fairly…
