There are people who see in every popular celebration creeping paganism. Christmas is the major target, and while I can respect the fact that it takes real guts to protest such a universally beloved mass phenomenon, I think they’re wrong. With Groundhog Day, though, they might seem to have a case: After all, here’s a ritual where an animal predicts, if not causes, the weather. He both governs and personifies the ancient, endless turn from winter to spring. He is immortal – according to the Groundhog Club, the same Punxsutawney Phil has been predicting the advent of spring for almost two hundred years. And, in perhaps the most telling sign that we are dealing with a neopagan phenomenon, despite alleged links to medieval practices, the whole thing in its current form was started by men in the late 1880s who wanted an excuse to wear silly outfits.

Must we shun the hog?