The Horse Trader

[Mike P]

I dislike horses very much. I come by this dislike honestly. I grew up with them and have the scars to prove it. Every time I wash my hands I see my association with horses due to the many scars. I am reminded of them every day when I shave and see the scar to the side of my left eye. I cannot help but think of the kick I received that left the big scar on my ankle as I put my socks on every morning. When you add all these scars to the ones obtained by auto accidents and the rather large ones from my hunting accident it is easy to understand why Doc says “you look like you were in a sword fight” every year when I get my physical.

I have never felt like horses were pets to be pampered. While growing up they were tools to help us with our cattle business. I felt no more affection for any of our many horses just the same as I felt no affection for our old John Deere tractor. Well, if the truth be known, I liked the old John Deere a lot more then I liked the horses. But horses were a way of life and growing up my backside was in a saddle virtually every day of the year including the holidays. And dad was always trading horses, always upgrading. We only had one “machine” as my mom would call it, and that was a well worn Ford pick-up truck with lord knows how many miles on it. The odometer ceased working the second time it turned over. But given the chance my brothers and I would jump at any opportunity to get off a horse and get into that old truck.

While growing up in the 1950’s on a Texas cattle ranch money was scarce. I didn’t know that at the time, I seemed to have everything I needed and we never went hungry. All of the boys got a quarter a week for our allowance and it was readily spent every Saturday at the movie theater in town. We didn’t have the five cents for the box of popcorn but mom would make up a batch at home and we would take it with us into the theater. We felt sorry for the town kids that had to eat “store bought” pop corn. We traded or bartered for just about all our needs. Everyone did this; it was a way of life.

We traded beef every year to the Wrights who lived three ranches over and had a small hog operation. You knew the Wrights had hogs as they had sons also and in school there was just no mistaking that fragrance any time one of the Wright boys sat next to you. I suppose they said the same thing about me and my brothers as we undoubtedly smelled like cow. But every year we would take beef over to the Wrights and come home with a “butcher” hog. I remember my dad and Mr. Wright haggling over the exchange rate every year. How much beef for how much pork was a contest that both entered every year with a gleam in their eye. This play was acted out again over at the Niemeyer ranch but you substituted lamb for pork. That negotiation would take hours as old man Niemeyer was “tighter then six toes in one sock” as I would hear my dad tell my mom every year when we brought home several spring lambs. But no matter how intense these negotiations became, I don’t think I ever saw the smile on my fathers face change to a frown. For that matter Mr. Wright was always smiling during those exchange wars as well. Why even old man Niemeyer always seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

My father traded for just about everything. I remember him telling all of his sons that the “best deal you could ever make was the one that satisfied the needs of both parties.” He always thought that if you “put one over on someone” that you were really cheating yourself as you could never deal with that person again. And the day would come when you would need something owned by that person and you would be plum out of luck.

As I got older I learned to listen to my father as he traded with our fellow ranchers. I thought of something he would say all the time when I read the recent posts here on the forum regarding the perception of price or cost. Every time any one would ask my dad what he thought their item was worth my dad would religiously reply “My friend, I would never be so bold as to tell you what your (pig, lamb, tractor….you name it) is worth. Why I value our friendship way more then that (pig, lamb, tractor…) and I would never risk insulting you by telling you what it is worth. All I am certain of is that it is worth more then I am capable of offering you!”

I am confident that my father never made an enemy trading goods or services. It doesn’t matter whether you trade with cows or pigs or money. The principles are still the same. My father taught me never to tell anyone what their property was worth. And when you make an offer, do so in a manner that does not offend the person selling.

When dad died all the ranchers in the county came to his funeral. All of the men who paid their respects would remark to me and the brothers what a “good and honest” man my father was. To this very day packages still arrive at the ranch for my mom every week. Vegetables, bacon, baked goods, you name it.

I just smile when mom tells me on the phone that so and so just dropped off something or another. It makes me feel good to know that old horse trader is still trading.

[saxman]

Great read Mike.
I have missed you

[the elf]

I closed my eyes and the word pictures were so real it was unbelievable--it was almost like I was there.------------You sir have a true gift.

[Fergie10]

thanks mike awsome

[raydaughety]

Boy I needed that. I hope that your doing well Mike, missed ya.

Tyler & Ray

[Doe Master]

Thanks for the story Mike
Welcome back

[dick195252]

Glad your back Mike Your Father sounds like a GREAT Man.

[ehntr]

I always wanted to know horses better.................by your account I'm fortunate to not have pursued this

Good story...

[8up]

Great read

[hikerman]

Nice story!!!