Gary the Mascot finds his way out of a Dundas ditch to charm the plaque off Gore Park

Who knew? The tooth fairy arranges emergency roadside service.

At any rate, something seemed to be at work, some powerful force, on Sunday when a boy named Gary went flying off the flatbed of a pickup truck to a fate of almost certain doom.

At some indeterminate point in the trip, Gary unceremoniously left the vehicle, unbeknownst to the driver, in a suction of gusty winds and landed on the shoulder of Cootes Drive.

Whatever the source of the intervention (we'll tell you in minute), Gary the Mascot is around and smiling today because of it. Yes, smiling. He's got a bright toothy smile. After all, he's a dentist's mascot - Dr. Mark Shankman's, to be specific.

Shankman felt terrible about Gary's ordeal. He was driving the truck to Gore Park Dentistry, to drop off the mascot, who took four months to acquire (supply chain delays," says Suzanne Zandbergen, Gary's designer). He cost $7,000 to create.

Gore Park Dentistry on King East is Dr. Shankman's most recent dental venture, a vote of confidence in our growing downtown, he says. He opened it at the end of 2019, just before COVID hit. He has run Dundas Valley Dentistry since 2004.

When Shankman, who is youthfully energetic and fun-loving, started up the new clinic he wanted to build downtown clientele, so he hired Zandbergen and her company, The Generators, for marketing. They came up with the idea of a giant mascot version of Gary, a boy in a toque who makes brushing teeth cool" and using him as the focal point of a flash mob in Gore Park, scheduled for Dec. 20.

All was sailing smoothly for the big Monday, until Dr. Mark looked at his rear-view mirror and, to his horror, realized Gary was gone. Actually the box was gone. Gary was in a box. A big box.

He immediately stopped, retraced his route. He found the box but it had been ripped open. No Gary.

I was crestfallen," he says (in the interests of fair product placement, he was Colgate-fallen as well). It's an amazing mascot. There's a fan in the head (to keep the wearer ventilated)." There's a whole body armature inside the clothes, as well as shoes, gloves and more.

Dr. Shankman, in a near-panic, went to various businesses along the route - beer store, cannabis store, asking if they had any camera surveillance. He went to the police.

Bless heir hearts," says Mark of the police. They didn't laugh me out of the station. They put it on lost and found." At the cannabis store, no leads - but they told him they needed a dentist.

Cut to the chase, Zandbergen went into solution mode. The message flew forth through every social media corridor imaginable.

Someone's husband's cousin knew," she tells us.

By 2:30 p.m. Mark was on his way to pick up the mascot. The finder took Gary from the box because the box was so big it wouldn't fit in the finder's car. But the finder knew whom the mascot was meant for; he recognized the address on the shipping label.

It was, to add to the preciousness of this Christmas marvel, a patient of Shankman's who found Gary! We'll leave person unnamed because of patient confidentiality.

That person, not knowing there was an urgency, and it being Sunday, intended to wait until Monday to make contact.

Upshot? Gary was a hit in Gore Park, on schedule. Not a mob" maybe but the kids who clung to him were thrilled. Now brush your choppers, and happy holidays.

Jeff Mahoney writes culture and lifestyle, commentary and humour for The Spectator. jmahoney@thespec.com