Dispersal: A Sad Day on the Farm

I sold my cows at an auction barn last week.  When I called Billy at the Bagley Livestock Exchange a couple of weeks ago, I told him I was interested in his services to help me feel decent about getting out of the cattle business.  Billy was quick to respond.

" I"ll drop in on my next trip your way," he said. "What's your cel number?"

After reporting my number and feeling like that was too easy, I began to talk to him about selling my cows at an 'auction barn' and my impressions of what that might be like to a neophyte in the cattle business like myself.

"Ahh, sure, Billy, but these are grass-fed cows that have been together on my place for a couple of years.  Are they going to go to the first legitimate wrangler that raises his hand to the babble of the auctioneer?", I asked.

"Hey, Ron," he replied, "I can tell you haven't been to one of our sales.  That feeling in your gut was legitimate in the past, but since we took over the Bagley sales we're changed that old enigma that a cattle auction is slightly better than dumping one's prized cows out the back of a semi on the freeway at 75 miles per hour.  What we call a sale of cows like yours is a 'dispersal sale' and if you can give me a couple weeks advance on when you'd like to sell them I can do my homework and set up the crowd with buyers looking for cows like yours to improve their herds."

"Oh," I said, "that sounds pretty good.  Are there many guys grazing cows anymore who might show up?"

"Ron," he said, "you live on the fringe of the grass country in northwestern Minnesota.  You're on the edge of commodities grain.  Up my way there are plenty of guys feeding cows out on grass and last years hay crop was exceptional so they have a lot of hay to feed.  That's cheap pounds going on for them, so there is a lot of interest in calves and bred cows to expand their herds right now.  And you calve in late May and June and those lighter calves are selling at pretty high prices for the first time in a long time."

I told Billy I was really looking forward to having him stop by.  After hanging up I walked outside to feed the cows their afternoon dose of beet shreddings and to have a chat with them.  My little gang of eight cows and one bull were licking at the ground at the feeding lane soon after I arrived at the trailer where I keep the beets under cover from the winter that failed to arrive with any gusto this year.  I'd had the calves in the corral since weening them in November and decided not to put them back out with the cows so my bull, "Joey Mauer", wouldn't have his way with any of my heifer calves before their time.  The calves like the cows and Joey, were at the gate pacing as soon as I lifted the blue nylon tarp from the trailer to load 5-gallon buckets with dry beet shreddings for their afternoon delight.

As I walked over to the big cows with two buckets of beets, Joe was first in the line and moaning at my tardiness. He was flinging saliva hither and yon in anticipation of me dumping the buckets along the feeding lane they had learned to line up along at nine in the morning and four in the afternoon.

"Easy, Joey," I called out as I dropped a gate wire so I could spread the beets on the ground for the nine animals.  Then, "Hey 39!"  to my biggest  cow now carrying her third calf.  "23" I whispered as I dumped a quarter bucket in front of her, "how come you're letting 801 in front of you tonight?", I asked her.  No reply.  The usual silent treatment, and one I'd come to understand over the past two years as a cows way of saying, "Less is better on the chatter there farmhand."

"How would you guys like to be dispersed?", I asked them as they totally ignored me and lapped at the ground like a hound in a water bucket after a three hour 'coon hunt.  "I've asked Billy to drop by and tell me about his operation up in Bagley.  How about a ride in a strange trailer to Bagley?  Wanna go to Bagley, huh?"  Still no reply, but that did get 61 to move to the other side of 805 to pick up on some beets none of the others had spotted in their haste to lick up everything but the subsoil along the lane.  "Well," I said, "Billy's coming over anyway.  He wants to size you guys up and talk to me about his marketing strategy for the auction in two weeks."  Still no response.  Somehow I thought that "size you up" and "auction" talk might get a rise out of them.  I know for a fact if I had said, "Billy's coming to take you to the ballpark", there would have been some whites of the eyes bugging out in my direction.  "Well girls," I said in departing to get the ration for the calves, "you're not going to the ballpark just yet.  I promise I'll get you another fine pasture to mow this spring and hopefully long after.  All you've got to do is keep dropping those nice little calves and you won't become a No Name hotdog.  Joey, I'm not so sure about you, but if they can see that you got all these girls pregnant again, I'm sure someone at the auction will think you're nothing but a stud like you're namesake, Joe Mauer."

Billy showed up on a Tuesday and we walked to the corral to see the calves.

"They look fine", he said.  "That little steer is about 50 pounds heavier than those heifers and yet, they are all small enough to pull top dollar for you."

"Great!", I answered.  "Are there many guys up your way running cows on grass all year?"

"Not all year", Billy said, "but, like I told you on the phone the other day,  there is so much grass this year they're all picking up extra stockers and they'll run them on grass and finish them on grain later in the summer before they ship them to the feedlots to finish."

"Let's walk out to the cows and see if they'll let you get close enough for a good look", I said.

"Sure," Billy said as we crossed the frozen marsh to the cows and Joey feeding on a round bale of hay.  Billy looked at them closely and walked slowly at an angle to them so they didn't spook.  Some of them looked up and moved a few yards away from the bale ring and watched us approach closer.  Billy pointed out two that he thought might be late calvers and we headed back to his truck.

We talked about the process that would take place at the sale barn on the Thursday after the one coming and I asked Billy if he had someone with a trailer that could come pick up the cows on the day he wanted them.

"Yes, I have access to several guys down this way with truck-trailer combinations big enough to haul your bunch," he told me.  "I'll have one of them call you and we should shoot for the Wednesday before the Thursday sale so we can vet check them for pregnancy and tag them in groups for the auction arena.  We'll bunch the heifer calves together and the steer by himself.  Then we'll bring out your cows in groups depending on the month they are likely to calve.   Then your bull will get his chance to win the crowd".

I offered Billy a coffee before he jumped up in his "real cattleman's" truck and he refused.  He was running late.  I watched him drive up the driveway and realized I had all but committed my cows to their fates in a "dispersal sale".

I got a call from Mark within an hour.  He said Billy had assigned him to haul my cattle and we'd have to talk next Tuesday so he could get directions to Blue Moon Farm.  Mark lived in Detroit Lakes and after I told him we lived north of Richwood on County 21 he seemed confident he could find us without a hitch.

The week went by fast.  I had to pick up a final couple of scoops of beet shavings from my neighbor Wally to supplement the cows those last days.   I told Wally I had talked to Billy and he seemed pleased I was going that route rather than trying to sell them myself.  He was certain I'd be happier with Billy's way of selling cows than for me to try and do it myself.  I thanked him for suggesting Billy's operation and headed home with my small trailer and 500 pounds of beet shavings, more than enough to last the cows until their big trip to Bagley.

By Monday panic had started to set in.  Not that I was backing out of selling the cows, but a "big" storm was headed our way and I was getting anxious it would become a spring blizzard and either delay the sale or hit right in the latter part of the week and no one would show up at the sales barn.  I called Billy.

"Bagley Livestock Exchange", Billy answered his cellphone.   I explained my apprehension as the predictions of a blizzard had become real and I told him I didn't want my cows going on the road on Wednesday right when the blizzard was expected to hit.  I talked to him about attendance right after a blizzard.

"Ron," he said, "I don't want to do anything with your cows that you don't want to do to them."  That settled me down like a cow getting clamped in a squeeze chute.  "And as far as trucking them up here, let's get them from you tomorrow and get them up here.  We have plenty of hay to keep them happy and depending on how the storm tracks and how much snow we get, I suspect my buyers will show up anyway", he reassured me.

"That's great, Billy," I said, "I'll call Mark and have him come tomorrow instead of Wednesday.  I really just don't have the equipment to dig out in time if he comes on Wednesday and we've had a big snowfall or he gets stuck with his rig trying to get out of my place."

"That sounds fine, Ron", Billy said.  "It really is best if we get your cows sold and relocated this week.  These guys up here are starting to attend to heifers about to calf and they aren't going to be too interested in buying in the coming weeks with that all going on."

Mark arrived on Tuesday on time and in tennis shoes.  I didn't notice his foot attire until he had his 32 foot trailer perfectly backed up to my load-out chute in less time than I could open a gate.  "Hey, Mark", I said as he opened his door and got out.

"Hi, Ron", he answered.  It was then that I noticed his shoes and asked if he had some mud boots for the loading work we'd have to do in my manured up and snow-packed corral.

"These are my mud boots" he replied and we set about the forty minute task of loading my cows in his trailer.  I am happy to report that we didn't exactly have a rodeo trying to get 14 head in, but I will say they got the drift of what we were doing pretty quickly and they mounted a serious act of armed resistance trying to stay at the Blue Moon Farm Hilton.  I watched Mark's big truck and long trailer go up the driveway and turn toward the highway to Bagley.  Don't ask me about tears.  I'm a cattleman you know.

The blizzard came in with a whimper late that night and on into Wednesday.  I was still proud of my decision to get the cows to Bagely when I did.  Wednesday my neighbor Norm called and asked about the pending sale.

"Yeah, Norm, I guess we're on for Thursday, but what do I know about "dispersal sales" or auction sales of any kind," I told him.

"Hey, I'm going to be able to go with you, " Norm replied.  "Wally is not going to need me to clean up around his place since we didn't get much if any snow with this storm."

"Great, I'll pick you up around 9:30 in the morning since the sale starts at 11:00 and it's a little over an hour and some to Bagley from your place," I told him.

Thursday came to light full of anticipation for me.  We got to Bagely and found the sales property with only minor confusion.  It had been years since Norm had been to a sale and his intuition of where the place was was dead on.  I on the other hand had my handy dandy iPhone App that showed me the Bagely Livestock Exchange in a place too close to town and where, it turns out a small farm was operating.  No problem though we eventually found the Exchange, walked around the stockyard until we confirmed that my cows had indeed made it to the right place on Tuesday and then,  sat on our butts in the sales arena for three hours before my cows came up for auction.  They looked great, well great to me and as good as any other cows in the sale.  Some buyers disagreed with my assessment and bid higher on some cows than what they bid on mine.  But, I was happy with the prices and strangely, I didn't feel much of anything about them going to another farm.  I guess my decision to sell was final in my heart and on the sales floor.  I actually sold my cows for more than I paid for them two years before and even Joey came in at a profit price compared to purchase price.  I doubt that is normal for a "dispersal sale".  But, there is nothing normal about cattle prices this winter and for that, and for the degree in animal husbandry science and farm facility management I earned having those beautiful Angus cattle with us on Blue Moon Farm I can only tip my Stetson.