My co-workers, apparently in sympathy with the evil bovines of Flaxweiler (and also apparently having excess time on their hands), went over the top (as sometimes is their wont) and decorated my office in a cow theme. So upon my return, I found, among other things, cow prints, cow paintings, cow statutes, cow wire sculptures, cow stickers, cow posters, pictures of cows pasted over pictures of my childrens' heads, changed book and certificate titles ("Order of the Coif" to "Order of the Cow" and "The Endangered Species Act" to "The Endangered Cow Act"), cow bells, cow-moo-making toys, cows on my Palm PDA, cows on my computer monitor, a large pig sculpture with "Cow" and "Moo" written all over it (I still haven't figured that one out), and a large (real) horned cow skull, to which was affixed a post-it note reading "Don't Mess with Steve."
My ten year old, upon seeing all this, said, "Dad, they must really love you," but that's only partially true; my co-workers love odd spectacles in the office (last year's French-themed Bosses Day extravaganza being an excellent example), and the Flaxweiler cow story gave them both inspiration and an excuse. Still, it was very nice to know people were thinking of me when I was out there facing imminent death.
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