Even I would say no.
I generally don’t like objects in the yard. Lights, yes. The more the better. But not inflatables or other big things like that.
One year, MrsT came home with a gold-spray-painted animatronic wire-sculpted reindeer family. Mom and Baby were fixed, but Papa’s head would occasionally move from side to side, like he was grazing.
It was an eyesore.
I apparently wasn’t the only one who thought so, because after walking past it a few dozen times with nary an acknowledgement, one morning, Kate the dog went out on her first run round the yard of the day, was sauntering back in, passed the display, Daddy Deer happily fake-munching the brown grass, stopped, turned, then jumped on him, wrapping her lanky Setter arms in a headlock, and didn’t stop until he was in a few pieces, and Mom and Baby upended as well.
Then she trotted back in, had a drink, climbed into her chair, and went to sleep.