We came up to the first turn, waited for the light, and she was about halfway through the intersection when we both kind of looked, blinked, and simultaneously said, "Is that... a _chicken_?"
Because, yes, indeed, there was a fairly large chicken, at the side of a gravel driveway belonging to a small pinkish house, happily pecking away. And, as we drove past the house itself, we could see there were two more chickens, also cheerfully involved in some very important gravel- and bug-related endeavors. Not a usual thing to see in that part of town, free-range chickens.*
Then, as we were pulling up to the Target, I noticed that the parking lot had sprouted a new building. With signs on it indicating that it is soon to become a Kentucky Fried Chicken.**
Me: That's... they're putting up a Kentucky Fried Chicken??
Dragonsdaughter: Wait, what? NOOOOOO!
Me: There, there; the Chick-Fil-A will laugh at it. *pious tone* Except on Sundays, when it will pray for its miserable soul.
Dragonsdaughter: *bursts out laughing*
(seriously; the Chick-Fil-A is no more than fifty yards away from the new building)
*Mostly due to the large intersection and significant road, frankly. Although I vaguely recall regulations about chickens and suburbia in general sort of way, but that might have been for the next town over.
**Or, if you want to go by their recent, face-palmingly dumb attempt to redefine "KFC" for the modern, health-conscious age, "Kitchen Fresh Chicken"... that never really seemed to take, although they pretty much stick to the initials nowadays, and hope people won't think "Fried."