As the wife and I were headed in to town with a finch on my lap, she pointed out two pronghorn bedded down on one of the golf course tees.

Not surprising. About the only cool, green spot around, I figured.

I was wrong.

Because as we drove through town, I spotted a third pronghorn, standing alongside the street.

And it wasn't a painted one.

It was real.

As we turned around for photos, a Colorado outfit with canoe on top came to a dead stop in the street.

Apparently not what they expected to see.

They also turned around, and I could see a big smile on the driver's face as he kept staring at the pronghorn on the curb.

Tourists. You gotta love 'em.

The buck was oblivious to the human traffic, bedding down in the shade of a small tree right next to one of the busiest streets in town.

Some people were equally oblivious, or enured, to our street's newest resident.

Then it was up to the historic site for the finch release. Where we got a brief glimpse of their resident pronghorn herd, before they got herded inside at closing time.