We must look out for each other
By Sheila Donnelly/Austin Daily Herald

It has been amazing weather with the temperatures in the 70s on Sunday, but the drought continues.

We have had to purchase hay for our cattle since August, as the pasture quit growing. Tom sold some young bulls a couple of nights ago. He had quite a time loading the cattle up and it didn't go well, as many of them jumped over the gates he had set up for a loading pen. Now he has to make the gates higher. Tom wasn't happy with the cattle and they way they were behaving. He didn't get as many loaded up as he had wanted. Fortunately the man who hauled the cattle is very patient but these cattle are trying his patience too.

Our pasture is across the road from where our house sits. We used to bring the cattle up to the barn when we wanted to have them loaded up. The barn has gotten so decrepit and is falling down that we had a loading pen built across the road for the cattle to go into. It had worked the two times before that we sold cattle, but the other night, nothing worked. We really didn't want to have a rodeo and we had what looked just like a rodeo, with cattle jumping every which way.

When we first moved to this farm more than 23 years ago, cattle jockeys were more prevalent in the area. There was one guy who would show up once a month and drive into the yard and ask if we had anything to sell. I never trusted him and I knew he was ripping us off every time he bought an animal from us, telling us over and over what a good deal he was giving us.

When I complained to Tom about him, Tom said, "He's an OK guy. He's just trying to make a living. Of course he wants to make a profit."

I would argue that we were nice people and we were trying to make a profit too. I didn't like this jockey's manner of how he wouldn't get out of his car and come to the door, but would roll his window down and speak loudly to me when I looked out the door from the house. One day he drove up and I was feeling ornery. I was thinking how I didn't like him and how he had ripped us off a couple times. Tom was out cutting wood. I walked up to the jockey's car, he had his window rolled down and he asked, "Got anything to sell."

"No," I answered.

"Is Tom around?" he asked

I didn't want him to see Tom, because Tom was always nice to him, and I was worried that Tom might sell him something.

I said, "You have got a funny job driving up to people's houses, sitting in your car and asking if they have anything to sell. We never know when you are coming, and you come at all different times of the day."

He knew I didn't like him and he said to me rather surly, "Your husband has a weirder job than me. He buries people."

"Well at least he doesn't drive around and go into people's yards and ask if they have anyone to bury," I retorted.

His face turned red, he sputtered at me and I could see that he couldn't think of anything to say. He started his car, revved it up, spun around in our driveway and tore out of the yard with the dust flying. I remember I started to laugh and knew that I had finally gotten rid of him. Tom came into the yard on the tractor with a load of wood as the car was tearing out of the driveway.

Tom said, "What did you say to him, Sheila?"

I told him what had incurred and he shook his head. "I didn't think he'd get so angry but at least he won't be coming back," I said.

"That is the one good thing," Tom agreed, shaking his head.