Prices generate a lot of optimism

Feedlot near Dodge City, Kansas. (Journal photo by Dave Bergmeier.)

We used to sell quite a few yearlings every year for a woman. She was a widow, but she was plenty strong-willed after becoming single. We sold 100 steers and heifers for her, and she had one hump-backed steer, so we wrote it on the ticket, and of course it brought less.

The minute she picked up her check, I got a call. She let me know that she didn’t have a hump- backed calf, and that she had never had a hump-backed calf, and I better not ever think that she had a hump-backed calf ever again. So, every time she sold cattle after that, if she ever had a hump-backed calf we might have written crippled or we might have written off-colored, but we never wrote hump-backed again.

I’m not sure whether the big push in the slaughter cow and bull market was a result of the million plus acres burned in Texas plus plenty in Oklahoma or not, but the market definitely got a big push right after that. I heard of one slaughter bull bringing $170 per hundredweight, and we had several killing cows that brought more than $130 per hundredweight.

We have a lot of optimism in the whole cattle industry. I heard of some heifers weighing 630 pounds that brought $284 per hundredweight, which figures to $1,792.35, and some steers weighing 833 pounds that brought $259 per hundredweight, which is $ 2,157.47. That is a pretty healthy price on both deals.

We are hoping for rain, and particularly on the burned area. A few days ago the weather app showed a better chance this week, but the closer we get our chances seem to get less. However, I know the weatherman is not in control, so please pray for rain.

I told a friend of mine when I die I want to be buried between a lawyer and a politician. He said, “Why would you want that?” I said, “Well, Jesus died between two thieves, and I wanted to know what it felt like.”

A friend of mine said when he died he wanted to die with his boots on. I asked him why, and he said, “It will be less painful when I kick the bucket.”

There was a cowboy who rode into town on Friday, and three days later he left on Friday again. You ask how is that possible? Friday was his horse’s name.

Editor’s note: The views expressed here are the author’s own and do not represent the view of High Plains Journal. Jerry Nine, Woodward, Oklahoma, is a lifetime cattleman who grew up on his family’s ranch near Slapout, Oklahoma.