It certainly was a couch doily. Interior decorating really wasn't Jo's forte so she couldn't decide if the doily was homey or just tacky. In fact, she couldn't really motivate herself to go shopping for anything homey-like.
She wasn't expecting company and certainly not this sort of company. Her jaw dropped as she tried to get her mind to accept and categorize what exactly had just materialized in her living room.
She did reach for the gun that was always kept at hand, hoping that the salt rounds loaded into it would work on whatever this was.