I once knew a guy who kept a ferret in his freezer. It was dead, and was before he put it in there (just to put your mind at ease, and put to rest any ideas you SPCA types might have). He was a big guy, with a beard and a Harley, which he kept in the kitchen during the winter. Perhaps so that it could be close to the ferret. I didn’t think of that at the time, but there it is. A theory formulated in retrospect. Out there now for consideration.

One day in January, somebody drove the Harley across the kitchen and through the wall into the garden.

I just found some old black and white prints from the days when I knew this guy. They show my sister standing in the rain by the sea, looking into the camera lens like a raccoon eyeing the business end of a 12 gauge, and some long-haired types who were in a band. One of them, the chubby one with the THC glaze on his eyeballs, was her boyfriend at the time. He played bass.

The photos were taken by the guy who drove the Harley through the wall. He claimed later that he was just trying to lay a little rubber into the lino, but that his hand slipped. No matter. It all worked out well enough in the end. The Harley was on the road come spring, and the ferret eventually got a decent burial in the garbage bin. My sister left the bass player for the photographer. No wait. It was the other way around.