With an almost tearful goodbye, we delivered the last of our registered Highlands to their new owner yesterday.We have been advertising them for sale for months and I had little hope that anyone would want cows that were between 14 and 16 years. However, I knew that Highlands can calve up to 20, so someone would probably get a good deal, if in an unconventional package.
To our surprise, we recently discovered that all three of these older cows were bred by our supposedly sterile bull shortly before we sold him. And one had already given birth to a beautiful, healthy heifer calf!
We got quite a few nibbles on our ad, but everyone wanted heifers for nothing, in the highest cattle market ever.
Then, a week and a half ago, I got a call from a fella in Illinois. We talked. He seemed serious and wanted the cows. But, after a few days of discussion, he told me he couldn’t find transportation he could afford.
Not a problem. I had just the man who offered to carry the cows North of the Mason-Dixon for nearly $1,000 less than Mr. Illinois had been quoted.
But then he told me he had to have the cows for next to nothing. I was willing to haggle. I love the haggle. I was literally reared on milk and garage sales. Mr. Illinois wouldn’t budge. So, we couldn’t come to an agreement.
I was dejected, to say the least. Time had run out for our girls. I had no grass for them and the very last thing I wanted to do was carry them to the sale barn. Saturday night, though, it looked like the only thing I could do.
“Hopefully, I thought, God can do something.”
Sunday morning I got a text asking how much I wanted for those cows.
Tuesday, Mrs. Texas was standing in front of my cows.
Wednesday we agreed on a price. I even got to haggle a bit.
Thursday, I delivered all the cows to her.
Friday, less than a week later, I’m writing you – cow-less. Well, Highland-less.