If you don’t like the weather in New England now, just wait a minute.
That adage, attributed to Mark Twain, could easily be modified in today’s crowded world of wildlife weather forecasting. If you don’t like the prediction, find a different diviner.
Groundhog Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow last week, as did our state’s seasonal psychic Ms. G., indicating six more weeks of winter. For those who can’t bear the thought of more cold, snow, ice and winter, there are other peculiar prognosticators that might provide a preferred future. Phil (and Ms. G) have some competition.
Start with Quentin. Just across the proverbial pond, find Quentin the Quahaug. He/she/they are tasked with giving Nantucketers a sightline into the season. The tradition of this clairvoyant clam began in 1982 with the town’s harbormaster and is now overseen by the assistant biologist in the shellfish department.
That tradition goes this way (or the other way): a clam is collected and opened. If it squirts left, there will be six more weeks of winter. A right squirt will bring an early spring. This year, Quentin second-guessed the groundhogs and squirted right, indicating that winter will soon come to an end. Since no good deed goes unpunished, Quentin was quickly consumed by the shucker, as is tradition.
Over the years, Quentin’s accuracy has been in the high 70 per cent range. If you are not convinced of the prescient power of this meddling mollusk, there are other animals across the continent that are committed or conned into the job of meteorologist.
Many iterations of groundhogs can be found — some live, some taxidermized, a few statues, some stuffed toys — and all with interesting names and stories. Beyond the woodchucks, there are other mammal mystics.
Prairie dog prophets are numerous: Beardly Bart in Connecticut, Prairie Dog Pete in Texas, Boise Bill in Idaho, and Lander Lil in Wyoming, among others. Nutrias (Pierre C Shadeaux in Louisiana), marmots (Stormy from Colorado), opossums (Alabama’s Sand Mountain Sam) and beavers (Stumptown Fil in Oregon) have been employed in shadow-watching. In other places, skunks and squirrels have had a turn.
Birds can also play prognosticator. Cluxatawaney Henrietta is a chicken from New York that lays an egg to signal spring or doesn’t to indicate more winter. A plastic pink flamingo named Featherstone forecasts in Leominster and Scramble the Duck decides in Connecticut. A penguin from the Milwaukee Zoo has its time in the spotlight too.
Things get weirder from here. There’s Bee Cave Bob, an armadillo in Texas. Snohomish Slew (Ret.) is a bullfrog that croaks (or not) his prediction, and Big Al is an alligator from Texas that will eat or not to share his prophesy. Sir Desmond of Algiers is a dog dressed as a bear pretending to be a groundhog doing his thing in (not surprisingly) New Orleans.
Closer to my heart are marine predictors: Lucy the Lobster in Nova Scotia or Benny the Bass in Ohio. All in all, in the past five years, more than 190 animal forecasters have been documented.
Perhaps it is time for the Vineyard to get our own mascot. Since we are talking about giving the high school teams a new talisman, why not a seasonal advisor to provide a prediction? Since the time would be February, we could have jumping springtails (left or right to share their forecasts), scallops clapping (the number could be indicative) or deer eating the landscape plants on the left or right side of your house.
For now, and to go along with the Superbowl’s half-time animal theme, we could take the pronouncement of first-time forecaster Pluto “The Good Bunny” who was subbing for Sylvia, the Apex Armadillo (unavailable due to icy roads). Though she didn’t sing (in Spanish or otherwise), she forecast more winter.
Suzan Bellincampi is director of the Felix Neck Wildlife Sanctuary in Edgartown, and author of Martha’s Vineyard: A Field Guide to Island Nature and The Nature of Martha’s Vineyard.
This article appears in February 13, 2026.