It could happen to anybody, couldn’t it?
Oh, you know how it goes … you leave your coat in the coatroom and after dinner, you slip on one of the five black coats hanging there that you believe is yours, then put your hand in the pocket and find a pocket knife — that you know you don’t own. It’s not your coat. You’ve accidentally picked one that you think is yours.
Or, how about when you’re on vacation — you stand at the luggage carousel at a busy airport and grab the familiar navy blue Samsonite, then you get home and open it up and find it full of baby clothes and bonnets.
It happens all the time. We make foolish mistakes. Well, wouldn’t you know the same thing happened with the talking deer head that was delivered to the back door of the Newman Riga Library? When it disappeared within one hour — before an employee arrived in the building and was directed to find it — I can only assume that somebody made a dreadful mistake and thought it was their talking deer head.
It could happen to anybody, couldn’t it?
Buddy Buck was a joke of a gift bestowed upon me by a family member who generously gifts me with absurdities for every occasion noted on a calendar. But this time, the joke was on him because Buddy served a very useful purpose in my life. Instead of being hidden in the basement with the many other gems, including taxidermied frogs and collections of monkeys, I was able to entertain the grandchildren with Buddy. At a certain age, all four of them were convinced that Buddy was one of Santa’s reindeer. Resident in the garage, (no way was he coming into the house), he talked, thanks to a microphone kept in the kitchen, allowing for very personalized conversations with individual children. But mostly, he sang. His repertoire included classics such as “Born to Be Wild”, “Home on the Range”, and my personal favorite, the incomparable “Do Wah Diddy Diddy.”
Time passes, and children grow up (and garages need to be painted) and it was time to share the wealth. You know what they say: “No act of kindness, however small, is ever wasted.” What better way to thank the new director of the (Newman Riga) library, to honor the new director of the library, to reward the new director of the library, (who possesses, by the way, a wicked sense of humor herself), than to gift her with the incomparable Buddy Buck. I was sure that she would find a way to maximize Buddy’s full potential.
Assembling all of the various accessories that came with him, including braces to attach him to a wall, and composing a note which I hung ceremoniously on his antler, I carefully positioned him on the back step of the building. I then let myself into the library and left a note on the circulation desk, directing staff to check the back door. I then further arranged Buddy for maximum impact. Then I left.
All day long, I waited for a phone call. It never came. I thought they were “toying” with me. Late in the day, they called to tell me a book I had ordered was available for pick up, forcing me to ask about Buddy. Sadly, they had no idea what I was talking about. In the hour between my leaving him on the door step, like a giant orphan, and someone coming to work, an “upstanding” member of the community must have “mistakenly” thought the talking deer was theirs! Goodness knows it could happen to anyone! Funny thing is that when I parked behind the library to unload him and arrange Buddy where I did, there actually was another deer in the parking lot — a “target deer”– posed nearby. It was very disconcerting. I seriously doubt that they both developed legs and ran off together. Obviously somebody made a dreadful mistake. They took what didn’t belong to them but I’m sure it was an accident; an honest mistake, don’t you think?
Did I call the police? Well, no, would you? That would have been like admitting to police that when my wallet was stolen many years ago, the most valuable thing in it was the Lassie ring I’d had since I was 6. Sadly, I’d taken it in to show a co-worker that very day. I’m barely over that loss.
But whoever you are and wherever you are, remember we’re all listening for Buddy’s song. And if that familiar riff from “Born to Be Wild” happens to spill out onto the street from your open windows this summer, when I’m in the neighborhood, I will be the lady knocking on your door. And since it’s an honest mistake, just one of those silly things that happens, I know you’ll want to make it right.
By Donna Haire, Retired as Director of the Newman Riga Library in December 2014.
