"huh."

Winnifred considered pulling out the door by the frame and taking it back to her house, but reconsidered - it'd be unrealistic to think this would fit on some ancient wooden shack's doorframe.  Anyway, it was unusually helpful and she'd like it if her own door did as well as this one in ratting out those who came to visit, which usually meant raccoons.  If only!  This was more than enough to go off of, and to congratulate it on a job well done she patted it softly along its frame.

"Thank you.  You're a good door," she said with a hint of a smile, "and I hope you keep standing for decades to come.  You can rest again."  The will of the door seeped out from it at the same time as her own will to speak to it did, and when she stepped back it was as mundane and inanimate as she had met it.  Then, of course, she turned around and--

More eyes than she'd like on her.  Perhaps she wasn't whispering quietly enough.

"...I have a cold."