Chapter 2
Graham
This year’s garden was looking better than I’d dared hope. The tomatoes were just starting to explode with color, and the pole beans were all the way to the top of their trellis. The field of alfalfa I planted last spring was also looking better than ever.
My orchard, on the other hand, that could use a little TLC.
That was a lie, it needed a ton of TLC. I had acquired it from the farmer next door after he retired and decided he was done with this life.
I tried to get him to give it to a relative or sell it instead, but he insisted I was the only one who could bring it back to its former glory. No pressure there or anything.
When my friend suggested that I rent a herd of goats to eat all the weeds from the orchard, I jumped at the idea, probably more so than they anticipated.
I’d always secretly wanted goats, and this was my excuse to indulge.
Who didn’t want one? They were adorable.
And renting was perfect… like a test run to see if I could be a good goat daddy.
Or at least it would’ve been. Turned out there weren’t any herds for rent in this area.
Instead, I discovered there were plenty of people looking for a herd of goats that they could rent for a couple of days or weeks to clean out their pastures or orchards or forests or whatever.
I filed that away as a possible additional income stream for the future.
I was always on the lookout for a new business opportunity and a reason to buy more animals.
Now I just needed to actually procure the herd for my current situation and then I’d go from there.
I put my tools away in the shed, methodically hanging up the rake, the hoe, and putting my gloves exactly where they belonged, after shaking out all the dirt.
Everything in my garden shed was organized so I knew exactly where it was and never had to look for anything.
Some people might’ve called me over the top. I considered it organized.
Once I was satisfied with the state of the shed, I locked up and went to my truck and trailer.
There was an auction in town, and according to the listing, there were plenty of herds available for purchase.
I wasn’t sure which variety of goats or how many I wanted.
It was unlike me to be so unprepared, but I had it in my head I needed goats and now.
All I had to do was go there, buy some, and come home.
I kept telling myself that over and over again.
Auctions and I had a love-hate relationship.
There was no place to get a better deal, but I had an impulse-buy problem when there was a sense of urgency as the bidding progressed.
I couldn’t let myself fall victim to that today.
There would be no getting distracted, no buying something I didn’t need, even though there was a six-foot rototiller that would fit beautifully behind my tractor.
I didn’t need it. Despite how handy it would be, I was trying to reduce my spending and increase my cash flow.
The herd of goats was the first step in that process.
Buying new farm equipment would be negative five hundred steps.
I already had three people tentatively interested in renting my herd just from conversations I’d had with them about my idea. I wasn’t foolish enough to think that meant they definitely would be customers, but it was all the encouragement I needed.
Ideally, I’d hold off on buying them. The fence I put together for them was completed in a rush. I was confident it would stay upright, but also, these were goats. They were notorious for being escape artists and eating things they shouldn’t and making messes.
The auction was super busy when I arrived. I hadn’t expected to see so many buyers here. Apparently it was the cool place to be. There were so many people coming and going. Please let them all be here for the sheep.
Sounds and smells of livestock filled the air, with a few extra baas and moos echoing in my ear as well.
I went straight for where the small animals were on display.
I bypassed the rabbits. I already had those.
Then came the fowl. I didn’t need any more chickens, and if I did, I preferred to get them as chicks over the started-pullets. I loved that initial stage.
I certainly didn’t need any of the bigger animals. No cows, bulls, or llamas for me. Besides, llamas were mean. Maybe not all of them, but I’d never encountered a sweet one.
Thankfully, there were plenty of goats available in a wide variety of breeds.
Some of them even came up to the fence looking for a pet or treats.
I had no treats but wished I did, despite it not being a good idea to feed any livestock that wasn’t your own.
Denying them hurt, though giving them some pets seemed to be enough for them.
I suspected the friendliest of the crew had been originally purchased as pets by people who didn’t understand what a handful the cuties could be.
I avoided looking at the cows. I was a sucker for all animals, but especially cattle. Call me crazy, but I thought they were adorable. I always had. As a child I had a cow stuffie I dragged everywhere with me. He was the best.
There were times when I considered getting a cow of my own. Maybe even a small herd. But that was in the five-year plan, not in the now plan. Currently, I wasn’t equipped to have larger livestock yet.
Of course, all of that depended on if I could get my farm on a better financial trajectory.
At this point, half the time there was more month than money left over after the bills were paid.
I’d been able to keep everything covered, but that wasn’t going to be the case forever if things didn’t change.
If all went well, the goats were going to be a step in the right direction.
I kept walking, saying hello to some horses that were looking for attention. I wasn’t a horse person. I liked them well enough, but in a visit-them-and-leave kind of way.
My last stop were the pigs. I had half a notion to raise a pig in the future. It was safe to say that my farm dreams were a whole lot bigger than both my land and my wallet. Not to mention my time. Maybe coming here wasn’t my best idea.
I started back to register and get my number and made a pitstop back at the goats along the way. They we just as adorable as before. I typed a few lot numbers into my phone so I didn’t accidentally bid on the wrong ones when the time came.
Registration was quicker than I thought it would be, but as they handed me my number, they told me to hurry up so I didn’t miss anything. I ran like I was being chased by a killer clown, only to get there as the auctioneer announced they were starting with the cattle.
I sat down, apprehensive of sitting through the cattle.
Who knew how many animals and items before they got to the adorable little money-makers I was here for?
I told myself that it would help me get used to the process and not to look at the animals.
From what I’d seen on television, the auctioneers spoke at a speed that was nearly impossible to decipher.
Then they brought the first animal up. This wasn’t going to be good.
I was already tempted and they hadn’t started calling numbers yet.
I considered going back to the registration area and asking what time they expected the goats would be up, but found myself glued to my seat, watching as the first animal was auctioned off.
I feared this was too much temptation for me. I needed to stay strong. I was here for goats and only goats. I was not coming back with anything else, not even an adorable cow. I was not.
Except I had a feeling I very much was.