Best bovine street sign

At the ripe age of 18, Ruofs Ruland has already proposed to a woman and gone skydiving. Every week, he has a new clever tagline. He has dressed up as Elvis and Donald Trump—on days that aren't Halloween.

Ruofs, pronounced Rufus, is a red fiberglass cow. His name is an acronym that stands for the business that he hypes on the daily: Ruland’s Used Office Furnishings Store.

“He’s got thousands of fans around the area,” says Steve Ruland, owner of the north Sacramento store and the voice of Ruofs. Every week, Ruland writes a message across the body of the cow, and Ruofs poses on the sidewalk so that everyone driving north on 16th Street can see it.

“We refer to him as a traffic calming device,” Ruland says. “Traffic slows and moves to the righthand side. Most of the time, they have to report what he says when they get home. If I leave a message up there too long or I have him blank, I get phone calls. A week is a long time.”

When Steve Ruland was inducted into the Rotary Club of Sacramento, he says, a group of around 200 business leaders witnessed it, and Ruofs tagged along. “I wanted him to join with me on the same day,” Ruland says. The crowd was asked who knew Steve Ruland, and he says about 10 people raised their hands. Then they were asked who was aware of Ruofs. “Everybody in the room knew him.”

Ruofs has little to do with the store’s wares, aside from the fact that the Ruland is “bullish on office furniture.” Rather, the cow has served as a brand builder: a changing sign that never blends into the background, even for drivers who pass by daily. Over time, his audience has grown to adore him. On Instagram, for example, user @doubledown_dan poses next to Ruofs and writes, “Been seeing this #Cow since I was a kid. Today I finally got to meet him.”

The cow has spread his share of love. More than a decade ago, a customer requested that Ruofs ask for his girlfriend’s hand in marriage. After the cow was freshly painted, the romancing man slowed his car. His girlfriend in the passenger seat saw Ruofs, and screamed with joy, as Ruland recalls. The man later called to report she said yes.

Years later, Ruofs was rented out to go skydiving, Ruland says. Lead bags helped to steady him as he fell from the sky. He landed upright with the help of a parachute that was strapped around his bulbous belly.

A more typical day for Ruofs includes sharing Ruland’s amusing messages on 16th Street. His greatest hit? Standing on the opposite side of the road with the word “Hello.” This was around the time that the Adele song by the same name was topping the charts. He also comments on current events (“Covfefe media bait”) or whatever strikes Ruland’s fancy that week. Recently, Ruofs said, “I lost my skillset outside my wheelhouse.”

“That’s a millennial thing—we never had skill sets, and if we did, we would’ve lost ’em,” he says. “If it’s in your wheelhouse or not, that’s actually an older-generation thing. To put the two of those together is just funny to me. I’m amazed by the words people say. I guess I have a very limited vocabulary, so some things just tickle me.”

Ruland fancies himself a comedian in the style of Jerry Seinfeld or Arsenio Hall—amusing, but not quite funny-ha-ha. These jokes entertain Ruland as much as anyone else. After all, it can get mundane selling used office furniture. (He jests, “They’ve just started going with some flashy colors: It’s brown and black.”)

Ruland says he milks the fun out of his week with Ruofs.

“It makes me happy, and hopefully you, too.”

215 N. 16th Street, http://rulands.com.