You open a Western antiques shop in an old house on East Main Street in Florence, which is zoned commercial.
You think, "A bear on the roof would really draw 'em in," but you don't have a large bear sculpture, and, face it, the chainsaw bears are so last-century.
But you come across a taxidermist's form for a gigantic bear, and so you bolt it to the roof.
It's still a bear, although it lacks ears and teeth and makes the passer-by think of a prehistoric bear that has spent centuries in a glacier, losing its fur in the process.
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