The satellite dish repair guys had to come and fix our receiver after our house got struck by lightning, and they definitely don't wind up in our neck of the woods that often. When they first got here, they spent about 10 minutes in the driveway taking pictures of the goats on top of their car (the goat's car... we have a broken down car waiting to get towed away that they sunbathe on), and then informed us it was hilarious, and that they were from Boston and didn't ever see farm animals. Apparently they meant ever. Then they had to run back out to their van, at which point I hear the free ranging flock (about 40) come barreling around the corner. Then, a shriek! And "Dude. Did you just run away?" followed by "THEY STAMPEDED AT US, MAN! I think they're mad!". Fortunately, the first one just laughed it off and escorted his buddy back in, where he could ask us... "Are those things called... chickens?" And then he spent the rest of the repair taking pictures of them while the more worldly one fixed the TV.