When I first came out to the University of Idaho, I arrived several months early in order to check out the school. No one was around and I pretty much had the place to myself. The school buildings were open and the administration was there but all of the students were home having a summer.
I drove around the town checking out the cool movie theater and the local bars. You know. The important stuff. At one point I was at an intersection, on campus. I stopped dutifully at the stop sign, looked left and then right. To the right it seemed some traffic was coming. Said traffic consisted of a pair of cowboys on horses, being towed by a rather large bull. I assume it was large because it was the biggest one I had ever seen. So I guess, using that logic, it was both the largest and the smallest bull I had ever seen.
It did not even stop at the stop sign so being the city boy that I was, I rolled down the window, honked and shouted "NICE STOP ASSHOLE!" One cowboy waved.
Perhaps the bull was on his way to get a coffee. We all get a little grumpy without it and I can empathize with his probable headache.
But before he trotted off to get his cowpuccino, the bull had escaped from the Kibbie dome where they were getting ready for a rodeo. It had loafed through the law school parking lot hitting nothing. It avoided the BMWs and Jaguars, carefully skirted each Mercedes and Lexus. The cowboys however, were not quite so gentle. There was some regrettable, collateral damage as the bull dragged their steel-shod horses across the paved surface.
Since I was from the east coast, I was still on EST time so I woke up at 4AM every day. I've been out here almost thirty years and I still get up at 4:30AM. Longest case of jet lag ever.
When the bull stormed the intersection I thought "I would never have seen anything like that back home". And that was how I knew I had found the right place to live.