You wouldn’t know it to look at me, but I am one of Bainbridge Island’s foremost authorities on Jackalopes. I base this claim on the fact that I have a “buck and doe” mounted pair of Jackalopes on the wall of my home office, and I’ve been to Wall Drugs in South Dakota, which houses the world’s largest collection of Jackalope tchotchke, including t-shirts, key chains, posters and shot glasses as well as dozens of mounted Jackalopes. On top of those sterling Jackalope credentials, I’ve also read Michael P. Branch’s seminal Jackalope book called, “On the Trail of the Jackalope: How a Legend Captured the World’s Imagination and Helped Us Cure Cancer.”

For anyone unfamiliar with them, a Jackalope is a rabbit with antlers, often claimed to be a cross between a jackrabbit and an antelope. In truth, Jackalopes owe more to the skills of under-employed taxidermists than to evolution or cross-species fertilization.

I acquired my own Jackalopes a number of years ago in Bozeman, MT. I was there to attend a closing ceremony celebrating a completed conservation project along the Madison River not too far from Ennis. At the end of the day, on my way back to the airport, the project manager with whom I had worked gifted me my buck and doe mount, two Jackalopes mounted on a single heart-shaped piece of wood.

The Jackalopes were both beautiful, surprisingly larger than the feral rebaits that roam our backyard, and the male had an impressive rack of 8-inch antlers. At the airport I had only a small carry-on bag and the cardboard box holding my Jackalopes. When I got to the security checkpoint, my Jackalopes triggered an alarm going through the luggage scanner. When the TSA officer pulled my new wall hanging out of its box, he burst into laughter and called over his two TSA colleagues to check out my Jackalopes. Pretty soon all four of us were laughing. Luckily, the three TSA officers and I outnumbered the rest of the passengers in the TSA line, so my embarrassment carrying such a touristy item through the airport was pretty confined.

After some good-natured ribbing and a discussion on the merits of the taxidermy (all agreed it was very well done in a way that Wall Drugs mounts aren’t), I inched forward toward the loading area only to have the TSA guy tell me I couldn’t take the Jackalopes on board with me as they presented a danger to the crew of the aircraft. Instead, I was allowed to seal up the box, write my name on the outside of it and send it through as checked luggage.

For years I proudly displayed my Jackalopes in my office in Seattle. When COVID sent us all home to work, I brought my Jackalopes with me, setting them on a chair in my daughter’s childhood bedroom that became my home office (which it still is). At some point, our dog Islay, evidently mesmerized by the sight of not just a rabbit in the house, but two rabbits in the house and one with antlers, decided it would make sense to chew the ears off the female Jackalope. I was crushed when I saw my earless Jackalope, but I hung it on the wall anyway.

Last Christmas my daughter Lauren, who worked for a number of years on a farm that, among other things, raised meat rabbits for local restaurants, decided to make a pair of replacement ears for my chewed up female Jackalope. The replacement ears are black and are held onto the female Jackalope’s head by a tiny chin strap. I’m pretty sure I own the world’s only Jackalope with an authentic rabbit ear toupee.

In case I’ve got you excited about the prospect of becoming a Jackalope expert like I am, I should point out that, to date, while my expertise in all things Jackalope has brought me a great deal of personal pleasure and satisfaction, I have been unable to monetize that expertise. Perhaps I would have been wiser to have devoted myself with equal intellectual vigor to something more financially remunerative such as being a Bigfoot expert or a respected UFO researcher. In the meantime, if you happen to be in the neighborhood, feel free to stop by for a tour of Jackalope Land. It’s not a long tour, and admission is free. Sorry, no flash photography. And please don’t mention the ears toupee – Jackalopes are notoriously sensitive to personal grooming criticism.

Tom Tyner of Bainbridge Island writes a weekly humor column for this newspaper.