I live in a dog neighborhood. I love the dogs! I love Peanut, Skittles, and Belle on my street, and I love the regulars I see on the walk to school every morning. On any given day, I'll pass a dozen dogs with their owners.
But we don't have a dog. We have cats.
One day a few weeks ago, I decided to join the dog club by putting our enormous dalmatian dog stuffed animal (a present for my youngest when she was two) in the window.
From the outside, it looks like we indeed have a dog. He gazes down upon the neighbors, and folks point up and wonder about him all day long. The little children absolutely love him, and they don't realize he's not real.
My across-the-street neighbor (after she survived the shock of him staring down at her) advises me to dress him for Halloween. I must! I might change his costumes with the seasons; I can see the Pilgrim hat, the Santa hat, the New Years party hat. . .
I tell her that we have a collection of large stuffed animals given to us by grandparents including a gorilla, a tiger, an elephant, and an alligator. These life size creatures are just waiting their turn on the window bench to freak the neighbors out as they walk by.
"Oh, yes! Do that!" my neighbor says as we laugh about it together.
I think I will.