The first Saturday in August means that there is a goat sale in Texas that I normally attend.  Goats aren’t bad, but the food is great.  This is one of the few places that I can find a potato burrito that is made right.  When I was a kid, my grandpa Kelln had a hired man (LG)  that was married to a woman that made wicked good potato burritos.  Yes, she was Mexican and yes, those burritoes were wicked good.  

      Now, fast forward to the goat world and Kenneth Helms has a hired man who has a wife that has a very similar recipe on those potato burritos.  I love them.  I’ll buy a goat every year just to make sure that there will be a sale next year with those little tortilla rolls of love.  Now, throw in some killer good fish and chips. There might have even been some ribs and grilled shrimp that were also culinary delights.  

      This Saturday also marks the anniversary since I last had potato burritos.  It also marks an anniversary since the last time I got twisted up sideways.  Now, a year later, I behaved myself.  But I still had a large time.  Food was great, the people were better and I’ve been telling you for the past month that there would be some good wethers in this sale.  

      More importantly, I was made aware of a better anniversary.  Tammy and I both talked to a true pioneer in the goat industry this weekend.  I won’t name names on this deal, but I will say that he and his wife are celebrating their 58th wedding anniversary.  That would be Five and Eight,  Cinco-Ocho–which translates to A LOT!  

     Our society celebrates athletes scoring points, musicians selling so many records/downloads, animals selling for a crap-load, etc.  None of this will ever add up to two people being married to each other for 58 years.  This is an awesome anniversary.  Our media is quick to show celebrity weddings and quicker to show the divorces.  Why don’t they spend time to uphold the trophy of a 50 plus wedding anniversary?  That, my friends, is an accomplishment.  It took over 50 years of not one, but TWO, people being dedicated to the same ideals.  

      Somehow, I’ve managed to keep the Dragon Lady for 20 plus years.  My Dad has kept my mom for 40 plus years.  And guess what?  I have two brothers that are still on their first and only wives.  From what I can tell, the key is “marrying up”.  Not marrying up for money.  Just marrying up with better people.  I’m pretty sure that my brother-in-law will agree to this.  My dad did real well and all three boys learned the importance of finding “the right one.”  

      I’m not knocking those that have had to split ways.  Let’s be honest, myself and those around us have wondered when I would get kicked to the curb.  Luckily, that anniversary has not transpired.  There are plenty of occassions in a lot of relationships where a divorce was warranted and I’m not judging those that have to head down that path.  I know/am related to several that have traveled that road, some for the better.  I just think that 6we ought to celebrate those that make it for the duration.  58 years is HUGE!.  I don’t even know if I want to live to be 58 much less be married to one person for that long.  Luckily, I found the right one, the first time.  But still, 58 years!  WOW!!

      This takes commitment.  Dedication.  Resolve.  Pick a word.  Just think of the ups and downs dealing with children, finances, religion, health, etc.  You can’t think about all the ups and downs until you have lived it.  Now, 58 years later, they are still together.  Hats off.

      I wish our media, government, society spent more time praising these kind of milestones. I’d watch that news station.  Just show me people celebrating their 20th, 30th, etc. anniversaries. 50!!!   Stop the presses.  That’s big news.  Sure, I also want to see the dumb donkey that got tangled up like a pile of coat hangers at the anniversary party.  But let’s celebrate these couples that have earned it.  Way better than which dip-tard committed a crime or whatever turd our government just laid.  Just show me people that actually accomplished something.  They raised kids, paid taxes, voted, built communities, churches, schools, whatever.  That is the very fiber that made America.  

       This country was NOT made by lawyers, doctors, athletes or politicians.  It was made by people.  People that got married, raised kids, had jobs, provided education, bulit towns and had beliefs.  Strong beliefs.  And I strongly believe in thanking GOD for any anniversary.  GOD speed to all those that can celebrate 58 years!  

Here’s to hoping tomorrow’s anniverary is great.  I also hope for horseshoes and shamrocks. 

Lots of calls, texts and emails.  So, here’s the answers to the most popular questions on the online sale on Thursday.

1–Yes, the red front legged doe looks like that.  She is cool.  Handles big.  Cool doe.  We priced her when she was still skinny, didn’t get her bought.  Now, she will bring some jack.

2—lot 3–tag 13P–POWER!  This chick handles big time.  Slick shear, hair, whatever way you want to show her.  Way round ribbed, big topped and big assed.  Under the right buck, this one could raise a big time wether/buck.

3–The buck–yes, he’s good.  Handles real good.  One of the better bucks that I have seen offered this summer.  Real good goat if you like square racks, wide loins and 3D butts. 

There is that sale report.  Now, on to more important stuff.  

     With all of the rain this year, I feel for the producers that have been ravaged by coccidiosis and worms.  We needed the rain, but it has brought it’s share of hardships.  We have had to do some doctoring here in paradise, but we have been lucky compared to others.  There will be some skinny goats sold this year that will feed and turn out.  I just hope that I am smart enough to figure out which ones.  Of the four main show species (cattle, swine, sheep and goats), a shitty skinny goat is the hardest to look at and read.  It reguires a knoweldge of the genetics, imagination, want to and a bucket of luck.  And it is best if you buy several of those kind in order to find one or two that will work.  

     I just wish that I owned part of the patent for the Spectam scour halt medicine.  Between pigs, goats and sheep, there is a bunch of that stuff sold.  

Here’s to wishing you horseshoes and shamrocks or whatever other crap brings you luck.  

    I love ice cream.  Unfortunately, I have this little lactose intolerance problem.  But, I still eat the stuff.  I just have to be strategic about it.  In this part of the world, we have Braum’s.  They are an Oklahoma chain that makes creamy smooth ice cream as well as good burgers.  They have two big farms–one by Tutle and one west of Shattuck.  I used to sell them a pile of equipment, parts and they are always in need of a mechanic or three.  

     This afternoon, I had to go back to the eye doctor.  I had gotten new glasses about a month ago.  They seemed fine at first, but things were starting to not look right.  They tested my lenses and sure enough, the right one was not the right prescription.  Lucky for me, I still had my old bent, scratched up glasses to get me through a week or so.  

     Upon leaving the eye doctor, I noticed the thermometer was reading 101.  I was headed to paradise, so this seemed like a good time to stop and get some ice cream.  I bounced into Braum’s and headed right up to ice cream counter.  A very pleasant woman greeted me and asked me what she could get for me.  I needed to think about it as I leaned over the counter and looked at every box of ice cream in the cooler.  She said to make it interesting as we have some really neat new sundaes.  I ended up going old school as I ordered two scoops of chocolate chip….on a cone.  

      While she was scooping my ice cream, I went and bought a box of lime sherbet.  I hadn’t had any of that in a long time, so I thought that I would take a box home.  I strolled back to the counter and she handed me my cone.  HOLY two scoops!  These scoops were huge.  She and I discussed the merits of lime sherbet as she rang me up.  I paid and headed to the pickup. 

      Remember that strategy.  Since it was hot outside, I left the pickup running.  I normally won’t do this, but I felt safe on a hot Tuesday afternoon.  Plus, I didn’t have to dig for keys, unlock, start and wait on the A/C to go to work.  I piled in the already cool pickup and went to enjoying my 3 pound cone loaded with lactose.  I don’t hardly ever text while driving, but I’m pretty sure that eating a cone while driving may be just a tick distracting.  I drove straight to the house.  No stops till we were in safe distance of the throne.

      The ice cream was enjoyable.  It was also enjoyable being waited on by a person who at least acted like they liked their job.  Have a good day, a better tomorrow and if don’t be afraid to stop and get an ice cream cone.  

    Shattuck has always had the mascot–Indians.  It’s a fitting name.  I watch the news and see the continued protests about the Atlanta Braves or Washington Redskins.  Some think that they’re mascots are not Politcally Correct.  Your federal government officially objects to the name “Redskins”.  However, YOUR federal government has helicopters named “Blackhawk”, “Lakota”, “Apache” and “Kiowa”.  They have “Tomahawk” missiles and use the term “Geronimo” as a military code name.    But, YOUR government finds the term “Redskins” offensive for use as a football team.  

    Terms of contradiction.  

“Dang, that was fun!”  

“Let’s do that again!”

“That didn’t go like it should have.”

“Whow!  That was WILD!  I don’t think that I want to do that again.”  said NO Kelln ever.  

“That deal made too much money.” said NO online livestock sales host EVER!

     Think about this….when you first play a new video game, you always get killed.  I wasn’t worth two squirts of duck crap at guitar hero on my first try.  But, try, try again and the next thing you know, you are dueling the devil playing a Charlie Daniel’s song.  Yeah, that song.  Nobody wins at Mario Bros. on their first try, but you do it agian.  

      I ddin’t make money the first couple of years raising goats.  I hated the does.  I didn’t have a vet or a progressive breeder in Oklahoma at the time to ask for help.  I was on an island.  But, we kept at it.  Now, it is like playing a video game.  I couldn’t buy a help code at the time.  I just had to figure it out for myself.  Now, we are just trying to get to the next level.  I’m old school when it comes to video games.  My favorite is still Galaga.  I loved Mike Tyson’s Super Knockout and Ivan “Ironman” Stewart’s Super Off Road actually kept me out of trouble back in ’89-’90.  Then, I made a career change in 2008 and I played a lot of Wii while eating cocoa puffs (some of the best days of my life).  

      I haven’t played a video game in several years.  I haven’t made time for it.  Although I should.  Risks, money lost and earned, victories and defeats.  And a whole lot of “Dang, that wasn’t fun.”  But when it works, it really works. The one thing that the stock show world has on video games–actual people.  And that will never change.   Welcome to the world of raising livestock.  

     There is a lot to be said for living in a small town.  Especially, if you are a two year old boy following your dog.  

Duke and I finished a welding project at the ag building.  It was lunch time so we decided to head to the house.  We turned onto the highway that heads East out of Shattuck.  This is a pretty busy highway.  We were following a vehicle.  There was oncoming traffic headed west.  As we passed the Ellis County Fairgrounds, I saw a dog head south across the highway.  For those that know Shattuck this is right south of the grade school and right north of the Baseball Field/Fairgrounds.  Immediately behind the dog was a little boy.  He didn’t slow down for traffic, he just followed that dog.  Brakes locked up, tires squalled a semi blew his horn.  Nobody was hurt, but we all sat there llike “Dang, that could have been bad.”  The dog and the boy continued south.  

      The dude in front of me parked his car and was trying to catch up to the boy.  Duke and I went around to try to head them off at the pass.  Hoss Manske came around the other direction.  The three of us converged on the boy and the dog in the road on the north side of the fairgrounds. The boy was wearing a t-shirt, underwear and NOTHING else.  No shoes, pants or shorts.  The first guy had the boy caught and was talking to him.  The boy said his first name.  None of us knew him or recognized him.  We asked his parents name–“Mom”.  Then asked where he lived.  He pointed in the westward direction, which was a little bit different direction than the route he was traveling.  He was a personable little fella.  And it was obvious that he was just following his dog.  

     One of us tried to call a hi-po, one tried city hall and the other tried the city manager.  It was lunch time, so none of us got an answer.  I then told Duke to see if he could read the tags on the dogs collar.  There was no name or number. Just the info on the rabies tag.  I had Duke read me the # on the rabies tag.  I called the vet and told them what we were doing.  She looked up the rabies tag # and gave me the owner’s name, phone # and address as well as the dog’s name.  This was all big help.  I called the #, but no answer.  So, Duke and I left the boy with the other guys.  They babysat the kid and played with the dog.  

      I went to the address which was several blocks away.  Duke walked up to the front porch.  The wood slats had been removed and the porch was now a sandbox.  Complete with toys.  Duke knocked.  Finally, there was an answer.  I asked if she was so and so.  She was.  “Do you have a little boy?”  “Yep, he’s playing outside here.”  I then asked if she had a dog named Sugar.  Sure enough.  I explained that we had the boy and the dog corralled at the fairgrounds.  She asked if I could bring him home as there were several more young uns in diapers playing in the room right behind her.  

      Duke and I went back and loaded the kid up.  A deputy sheriff pulled up and surveyed the situation.  He said that he would follow us to make the delivery.  I pulled up at the house and got the little guy out of the back seat.  He went running up into his yard.  The deputy got out of his car.  Mom came walking out onto the lawn.  She then went all White Trash and went to yelling, “I told you to stay in the yard.  You better listen.”  No, not any, “Oh you scared me” or “Come give momma a hug”.  Just a screaming fit, right in front of Duke, myself and the sheriff.  Not a thank you or nothing.  Of course, this image was complete with the concert t-shirt, barefoot and too tight of shorts for body type and dimension.  We were just missing a cigarette hanging from her lips.  Foxworthy would be proud of this redneck/white trash moment.  I looked at Duke and said, “Let’s go.”  

     There was humour in this happening.  However, there is something about a small town.  A bigger town and he might have gotten run over.  All of us knew that this boy was just following his dog.  There are lots of other things that could have happened.  We also stopped what we were doing until the boy was at home.  There was teamwork to figure out what to do.  And in the end, the boy was back at home.

     There is obviously a demand for older, proven does.  Helms sold several last week for a wad of cash, these nifty nannies brought a pile and I bet that Pfeiffer’s deal will go pretty good.  I didn’t buy any of mine back.  They sold and both buyers know what they are getting; thus the reason that they went after them.    I’m pretty sure that both will be flushing these girls hard.  

      One thing about it, no matter if it is TV or goats, the cougars are in demand.  I can’t argue.  

     We are having a Nifty Nannies online sale.  This online auction event will take place Sunday evening, July 19 on oklahomashowgoats.com.  These nannies are all proven breeders.  These cougars look the part and have the resume’s to go along with the looks and genetics.  There are no known reproductive problems.  All but one of the does has been weaned.  I have a partner on 5 of the does and that is why they are being sold.  The only fair way to disperse a partnership is through an auction.  These does are selling.  K76 was born and bred at Kelln Livestock.  She was just weaned and I was like WTH, let’s offer her.  Personally, I would put all these does into a flush program.  I’m a  moron for not flushing these girls.  

     Phenotypically, I would rank them 901, 862, Pink 035, Kelly, K76 and then 893.  Genetically, I would still rank 901 first.  She is good and proven to breed good.  Pink 035 is an interesting piece.  Beings that she is G191s twin sister this makes her an Animal x Bingo’s twin sister.  I lined her back up to 191 genetics.  She probably ought to have some kind of out-cross put back on her.  It could be huge.  I was considering breeding her back to a purebred.  These does are all good mothers.  Call me for questions.  I should be around this weekend if you want to take a look at them.

    Part of me would have liked to have had Fifty Nifty Nannies, but then that would be a dispersal as I only have about 50 of these glorious beasts.  

p.s.  Caught another mouse in the “better built mouse trap”.  

Have a great day.  I’m headed to haul small square alfalfa bales.  I asked a person yesterday if they wanted to help haul small square bales?  He replied, “Those things are like drugs, I just say NO!”

     This has been a pursuit for inventors for years….to build a better mousetrap.  I’ve got numerous bait stations, strategically placed bait (where the dogs can’t get to it), traps and a well armed Duke that can shoot to kill at any mice or rats.  But the most effective mouse killing device on our place is a water tank.  It is nothing but a round plastic tank that was originally a plastic container for a protein tub.  I have 9 or 10 of these in use, but there is only one that consistently has a drowned mouse in it.  Four or 5 days a week, I have to dump this one tank to get rid of the drowned mouse.  It normally has one, but I have caught as many as 5 in one night (must have been a good rodent party).  I have even caught a rat–yeah, a big one.  The only thing that is different about this is the fill pipe from the hydrant comes out above it about 8 or 10 inches.  I guess these rodents crawl to the end of the pipe and then drop into the pool of death.  

rat’s butt about much else.  What happened to the slow season?  It doesn’t  exist anymore.  Lots of miles covered and another week is in the books.  The calendar just keeps rolling.  Most of this week has been overcast, damp and somewhat wet here in paradise.  However, one doesn’t have to go very far in any direction from paradise to see LOTS of water.  I’ve seen cotton fields that looked like rice paddys.  Hay meadows that would make good crawfish farms.  Goat pens that look…well, like a dry loving animal like a goat ought to not be in there.  I’ve seen these things in Texas and Oklahoma.  I’ve listened to stories from Nebraska to Indiana to Arkansas.  It is a wet year. 

      For the past five years, lots and lots of us fine folk have prayed for rain.  Our prayers were answered this year.  Some would like to curse the amount of rain that has been recieved.  Some are smart enought to not curse it.  While others will be wishing for rain in the near future.

       Now, that we have rain, maybe we ought to start praying for other things.  I would love to have an abundance of smart leaders in our government.  How about a set of judges at our state and national levels that can make rational decisions?  Maybe if they weren’t influenced by politics, money, etc.  I cringe every time that I have to vote for judges on a state ballot.  I shudder every time that a new supreme court justice is appointed–FOR LIFE!  And this appointment is normally done by some donkey that wasn’t qualified to be a leader in the first place. (Not just my opinion, just look at the track records)  Make all state and federal judges be like NFL referees.  Earn the right to work a playoff game or a super bowl.  If you can’t cut it, well, retire.  

       I’m just living the dream and wishing everybody a good evening and a better tomorrow.