WIARTON WILLIE, A PUG-NOSED WEATHER PROGNOSTICATOR, HAS DIED.
Beloved Wiarton groundhog passes away
For those who knew him, Wiarton Willie will be remembered for the grace in which he held his species’ highest office. He managed to conquer the greatest hurdle facing a groundhog in the public eye: He did not hide from his admirers.
If the groundhog’s primary duty is to accurately predict the coming of spring, surely the second would be to allow himself to be seen, to accept his role as a tourist attraction and economy booster for the municipality that feeds him. But most groundhogs are, by nature, skittish. Willie, however, learned to relish the attention — allowing pedestrians and dogs on leashes to glimpse him, lying in the sun, at his penned-in estate on the waterfront in Wiarton, Ont.
“If he could speak, he’d be polite,” his caretaker, Gord Glover, said on Wednesday.
The groundhog was found dead on Saturday. He was 13.
The Town of South Bruce Peninsula — an amalgamation of hamlets that includes Wiarton — announced Willie’s passing Wednesday much in the same way a palace announces the death of a monarch. Yes, Willie was dead, but Willie was still alive. A two-year-old groundhog, Wee Willie, is next in the line of succession and will ascend to the post of Wiarton Willie come Groundhog Day on Feb. 2. He had been waiting in a pen, across a road from the late Willie’s home — but mercifully out of sight for old Willie, since Wee Willie’s presence would have no doubt served as a constant reminder of the impermanence of his own life.
The late Willie himself was once a Wee Willie, after he was caught as a baby in nearby Markdale, Ont., in 2004. He was shy then, darting deep into his pen at any sign of a dog or person, Glover said. He got better, becoming almost as curious of people as they were anxious to see him.
In his last ceremony, this year, Willie predicted an early spring. But he was frail, South Bruce Peninsula Mayor Janice Jackson said. His hibernation that year had not rejuvenated him the same as it had in years past.
“He was a little unsteady on his feet. He looked very tired. I was actually quite concerned about him,” Jackson said. “Normally he’s quite spunky.”
It was to be expected. At 13, Willie had long surpassed the four-year lifespan of a groundhog in the wild.
“Willie was old,” Jackson said. “It was Willie’s time.”
In his final weeks, he walked favouring his hips. His caretaker avoided giving him corn, despite it being his favourite, because of the digestive issues it was causing. Each morning, Glover arrived with carrots and lettuce, maybe some broccoli, checking Willie’s breathing, and sang to him a little. “Whatever song I heard on the radio driving in,” he said. “I’d always speak to him because he’d know my voice.”
On Saturday morning, around 8 a.m., Glover walked into the pen.
“Good morning, Willie,” he said, carrying the lettuce and carrots.
But Willie did not react. It looked like he was sleeping, but he wasn’t lying in the usual way. “As I went in, I could tell,” Glover said. “He was very peaceful.”
The town had him cremated — because the mayor just didn’t feel right about having him stuffed — and placed in a metallic blue urn, six inches tall, that will sit in Wiarton’s historic train station. No official cause of death has been announced, and no autopsy was conducted. The town suggested he died merely of old age, sometime between Friday night and Sunday morning.
On Sept. 30, the town will hold a funeral procession through Bluewater Park where Willie lived, to the statue of a groundhog. After that, the cycle of groundhog life in Wiarton will keep spinning. The new Willie will make a prediction come February, then another, until most people think of him as the only Willie — except those who knew the old Willie.
“He will never be forgotten,” Glover said.