Day 122 CJSM

Day 122

 

“Eat Buster! Eat!” Begged Becky

 

 

Like I confessed previously: We had a menagerie of animals on our farm---mostly…pets.

So? We have all this land and hay and crops and creeks and a pond and sheds and barns and fencing and ole Dad decides to do something to bring money “in”---for a change. No pun intended. Well! I saw an ad at the local feed store for seven feeder cattle, young cattle to be fed for market. We had a pick-up and a stock trailer, so I made a phone call and off went the “farmers” to view our project and bring home the “bacon”---or…”beef”, as the case may be.

All the way to the seller’s farm I am preaching to my two co-pilots, Beth and Becky, “Do not name these critters; they are a business. We will feed them and when they are big enough, we’ll load them up and take them to market and sell them for cash.”

The little girls listened politely to my admonition and agreed; they wouldn’t name the cattle.

Well! We met with the farmer, bargained a price (I am a horse-trader from way back!) and loaded the new “money-makers” into the stock trailer and headed for the seller’s gate and home.

Before I got twenty feet, the old man yelled and came “running” after us; I stopped.

Waving a slip of paper, the old farmer said, “Here’s the names and birthdates of all the cattle!” The girls giggled and snickered and I swallowed hard. Was this a conspiracy?

I paid for the cattle but, when we unloaded them at our barn, I told the girls to each pick a calf for their own and when we sold them, they would each get the money that their beef brought at market; seemed like a “fair” deal---at the time…not everything is as it seems.

We fed the cattle for nine months. Beth had chosen a calf and pretty much forgot about the venture; Becky chose one and named it “Buster”. She was religious about tending to the beast and would feed Buster and say to him, “Eat! Buster! Eat!” And---boy! Did he ever!...And, grew!

When the day came for market, Buster weighed in at the top of the heap and brought the biggest price! Becky immediately claimed the prize; much to Beth’s chagrin!

To this day, Beth feels “cheated” by the results. I guess ole Dad didn’t do such a good division job of splitting up the money on that deal. Mea culpa! Mea culpa! Mea maxima culpa!

Sorry! Girls! A deal is a deal. In the end---it all comes out in the wash, or…hamburger!?

 

Ah! Cookie Jar Sweet “Cattle-baron” Memories!