Manhattan's "Scarecrow Parade" (The Untold Story)

Ok, we'll admit we were pretty excited to make our first entry into Manhattan's informal "Scarecrow Parade." Our hunter's dog looks suspiciously like our own German Wirehaired Pointer, Reba. It came as suprise, though, when

the Chicago Tribune used our scarecrow for the cover photo of their story. Sweet :) It's really fun to go through town and check them out—there's an astonishing 50 or more. Our favorite is the Grand Prairie Animal Hospital's, which is a girl walking a dog with a cone—it's awesome! (We're thinking the photographer didn't see that one.)

What the article doesn't tell is how the "Scarecrow Parade" began, another reason we were so psyched to make one our first year in business. (Disclaimer: this story is as I lived it. No actual research has been done here, but honestly, you can't make this stuff up.)

Last year, beloved public works man William "Buzz" Sparger decided to make a town scarecrow for Halloween. Naturally he made a Public Works scarecrow, mowing a lawn in a safety vest. Other departments followed suit, including the firefighters. Sadly, although perhaps predictably, someone stole the firemen's coat from it, precipitating a firestorm (pun intended ;) on local social media not seen since the alligator was running amok in the creek. Not a criminal mastermind, the coat thief wore his trophy to the Demolition Derby nearby a short time later, and was promptly apprehended when dozens of residents reported the sighting. The coat was returned to the scarecrow, and the town was delighted. The unintended consequence of the coat theft: mass scarecrow awareness. 

Scarecrows popped up at an exponential rate in the following days. It was utterly captivating to see all the businesses, local teams, clubs and schools' entries.  It seemed there was a new one every day on the drive home. And we all loved it. There was something so deeply fulfilling about the whole thing--it's spontaneity, the enthusiasm, the unabashed celebration. We reveled unapologetically in scarecrow mania, despite some local taunting and the fact they are, indeed, a little creepy at night. 

This year as fall approached, we had a business of our own and scarecrow ideas began rolling around in my noggin sometime in August. So very sadly, about a month later, Buzz passed unexpectedly in his sleep. Many of us were devastated, including my youngest daughter who adored him. Our scarecow man with his dog was our little tribute to the amazing spirit of the man who inspired them. We know he must be watching the "scarecrow parade" from heaven, and hope he loves them as much as we do. It's one of the many legacies he left behind. And reason number 173 why we love Manhattan.