Beginning With The Fake Rabbit Head
By ice rivers
Like many stories, this one begins with a doorknob.
Unlike a lot of stories, this one ends with a near calamity caused by a gigantic, crashing fake rabbit head.
Like many other stories featuring a pain in the ass dog, everyone somehow escapes relatively unscathed except for the digital camera.
Unlike a lot of stories that begin with a doorknob turning, this story begins with a doorknob not turning.
Or maybe it should begin with the rabbit head.
Twenty something years ago Lynn was working part time at a department store. As part of their seasonal sales program the store used a twenty five pound hard plastic head of a rabbit as an Easter bunny display. When Easter came and passed over, Lynn asked the manager of her department what they were planning to do with the rabbit head. They had no plans for the head. Lynn for some insane reason asked if she could have the grotesque, awesome "skullpture". They said yes. She brought the head home. I freaked. For a very short while, we kept the rabbit head in the living room to irritate our children. They hated and feared it. We put it all over the house at different times until we moved it to the garage where it hung quietly, like a hunger artist...semi-forgotten, completely ignored yet still grinning.
Now back to the door, the gateway of perception.
Without the door knob it is impossible to break on through to the other side etc without breaking down the door.
The door, with the doorknob in question, was at the side entrance to our garage. Perhaps it was the windstorm. Perhaps it was shoddy construction. Perhaps it was destiny . Whatever the reason, the door knob failed to turn. This rendered useless the door that the door knob was intended to serve.
I am no handyman.
Lynn is much more proficient at home repairs than I.
Lynn took a shot at the door knob.
The door remained closed like a cold blooded heart.
The useless door posed a problem for our dog Max because this was the door that we let Max in and out of to relieve himself. We had to reroute Max until the door knob on the door dilemma was resolved.
As a bona fide, spoiled, "aren't you adorable" pain in the ass, Max was uncomfortable with any change of routine.
Now to me, the situation might have gone on for a couple days uh weeks uh months uh years but Lynn, God bless her is different. The door needed immediate attention at a higher job description.
It called for the next door neighbor.