| Sometimes, even on a tight budget, you have to make some of your decisions with emotions |
|
|
|
Truth from the trenches
By Melissa Hart
“Hey, pick me up a milk cow, if any go cheap.” Those were the words the dairyman had for the sale manager.
The sale manager took the command and ran with it, only to call the dairyman after the sale and inform him, “I bought Lot 23, but I spent more than you wanted, sorry. Oh, and she’s not a milk cow; she’s due in a month, but I think you’ll like her.”
The dairyman replied, “Why did you do that? I told you how much I had to spend! And I need milk in the tank – NOW!”
He had saved some money back for another milk cow, but only had so much to spend. Wondering how in the world he was going to pay for this heifer-not-a-milk-cow, he looked at her pedigree, hoping it would be less than desirable so he could just say he didn’t want her.
After looking it over, he found she had a decent pedigree – and it was now time to break the budget-breaking news to the financial advisor: His wife.
He told her the whole story, but what he didn’t know was that she already knew all about the heifer from price to pedigree, and couldn’t wait for the trucker to drop her off.
The next day, she arrived. Opening up the trailer door, out stepped a beautiful, tall, deep ribbed, sharp heifer. The trucker went on his way, and the couple went in for closer inspection. They liked her – a lot.
Looking at each other, they wondered what to do. They discussed the financials and tried to figure out a way to pay for her. The only thing they agreed upon was that they would have to send her back or put her in a sale; they just couldn’t afford to keep her.
The next day their two boys came home from an overnight job; they hadn’t seen her yet. The oldest boy walked in to help his dad milk that evening and looked her over. He thought to himself, Wow, she’s a nice heifer, I like her. I wonder who she belongs to?
While they milked, he said to his dad, “Hey, who are you keeping that heifer for? She’s nice.”
His dad said, “She’s ours, right now.”
With uncontrollable excitement, the son began to rifle off questions: “Really? Seriously? She’s ours? No joke? She’s awesome! I can’t believe you got her! What are we going to do with her? How old is she? Who is she bred to? Wow! This is awesome!”
The second-oldest son walked in the barn and quietly, he looked her over carefully. He got the stick out and measured to see how tall she was. The wheels began to turn in his head and were headed toward a show ring – he wanted to be on the halter of this winner, no matter what.
Watching the excitement exude from his boys was all this tired, old dairyman needed to make the decision to keep her, no matter what. With the chores all done for the day, he slowly walked to the house contemplating, I wonder if I can get on a payment plan?
The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of Farm World. Readers with comments for Melissa Hart may write to her in care of this publication. |
| 9/8/2010 |
|
