I love Chick-fil-A. In my opinion, out of all the fast-food eateries, not only do they serve the best food, but they also provide the best service. And depending on which source you check, they rank either second or third among the highest grossing fast-food chains in the nation—despite being closed on Sundays and regularly boycotted by (how do I put this delicately) those more progressive and enlightened than myself.

It is refreshing to see a business that prioritizes faith and family over the almighty dollar. In an age where nothing is sacred—businesses stay open on Sundays, Thanksgiving, and even Christmas for fear of missing a sale—Chick-fil-A stands firm. Imagine the revenue Chick-fil-A could rake in by opening on Sunday. By my crude calculations, they could add an additional 3 billion dollars to their bottom line. For their convictions in closing on Sunday, they have my utmost respect.

But that’s not the only reason I love Chick-fil-A. Unlike some fast-food places where the workers act as if I managed to ruin their day by patronizing their establishment, Chick-fil-A employees are always customer friendly. I’ve been in many places where the cashier takes my order, takes my money, returns change, and hands me my food without ever speaking to me or making eye contact. I’ve even had servers interrupt me mid-order to chat with a co-worker. Many times, when I say “thank you,” I don’t even get an acknowledgement as they shove the tray at me. I won’t even go into the number of times my order has been wrong or I get stuck with the French fries which have been sitting in the warmer for the last two hours.

Chick-fil-A workers, however, always ensure the order is correct and when I thank them, respond with, “My pleasure.” I somehow suspect that serving me is not necessarily the highlight of their day, but they always make me feel like it is. Plus, if I happen to forget something, like a condiment or utensil, they cheerfully fetch it for me, not to mention stopping by the table to ask if everything is okay or offering to refill a drink. There are even fresh flowers on the tables.

I also think that whoever came up with the advertising concept of the Chick-fil-A cows was an udder (pun intended) genius. This is such a clever marketing idea that I doubt anything can top it. I always get a chuckle out of the cows holding up the misspelled signs begging people to “Eat Mor Chikin.” There is just one little problem, however. Has anyone besides me noticed that the cows promoting Chick-fil-A are Holsteins? And does anyone besides me realize that Holsteins are not beef cows, but dairy cows? (Well, except for the poor male babies who are of no use to the dairy industry that get sold for veal, or occasionally raised for beef). While it’s true that aging dairy cows may eventually end up as ground beef, in the big scheme of beef, they don’t contribute much to the business. Let’s just say if you find yourself chewing on an especially tough fast-food burger, you might be getting a taste of old Bessie from the dairy farm. (Only kidding . . . mostly).

It’s kind of a shame that Chick-fil-A didn’t choose a breed more associated with beef, like Hereford or Black Angus, for their advertising campaign. But I’d be willing to bet that advertisement executives don’t really know much about cattle, and when the general public pictures a cow, the Holstein is the one which most comes readily to mind. Their distinct black and white markings also make them more photogenic than their beef counterparts.

I hope I didn’t ruin your perception of Chick-fil-A by pointing out their little advertising blunder. On the other hand, perhaps this wasn’t a mistake at all. Perhaps Holsteins were deliberately chosen as the spokes-cows because they’re the ones who actually get to live long enough to promote eating chicken instead of their bovine beef brethren.