The pastor of the church I go to in Oklahoma City, his wife, his daughter and his son-in-law have a few cows and needed a bull.
Last week I took them a bull. I asked the preacher’s daughter if they had put the bull with their cows yet. She told her husband that since they hadn’t been around the bull that long she wanted her husband to wait for her to help move the bull. She said, “Should we haul him in a trailer, or should we get some treats and see if he would follow one of us to the next pasture with the other one following the bull?”
I think I gave them some very good advice. I said, “Get with your husband, and decide which one of you is the least valuable. Then the most valuable should get in the four-wheeler with those treats, and the least valuable person should follow along behind on foot!” I’m not sure what kind of treats they have, but I hope they don’t try to get the bull to roll over!
Another neighbor told me a friend of his was a cattle buyer. This friend went to the dentist to have a tooth pulled. This dentist was new in town and was from New York City. He had just recently bought a house that had a small acreage. About a month earlier the dentist had asked the cattle buyer to buy him some heifers so he had bought him 10 head. After the cattle buyer had his tooth pulled, he saw the bill was $1,200. As the cattle buyer was leaving the dentist said he was going to need to get those heifers bred. So the cattle buyer bought him 10 bulls for his heifers. He knew that was the only way he could get his money back.
After selling the sale barn, several of my neighbors were shocked after realizing I wasn’t that great of an electrician.
I was telling a friend that I was named after my father. My friend said I don’t know how you figure that since neither one of you have any name the same. So I bet him $500. That sure is nice, taking money from a friend. I was born 30 years after my father.
The other day I was telling a friend that I broke my arm in five places. He gave me some good advice. He said quit going to those places.
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.
