Buying a Bull Online

Thanksgiving passed, Christmas and New Year’s are coming, but more importantly, bull-buying season has begun.

A bull has one job, but it is a critically important job.

No bull, no calf, no money, no ranch, and a new job greeting customers at Walmart.

Greeting customers would be fun, but the commute would be longer and opportunities to ride my horse would be limited.

So I spend some money on bulls every year.

But not just any bull.

I need a bull that contributes to a calf that lands easily and jumps up looking for breakfast.

I need that breakfast to start that calf growing fast so he provides a lot of steaks or she is a good mother early in life.

I need small and large, future fertility with lots of milk, muscular and slim calves -- all at the same time.

I need the bull to travel, find cows and stay in shape even when he is working hard.

I’m not a bovine pedigree expert so I depend on genetic estimates and my eye.

Neither guarantees the future.

I used to go to bull auctions and bid in person.

The sellers at those in-person sales always generously provided lunch and a chance to see my colleagues who talk my language and understand my livelihood.

The auction always started right after lunch.

Talk about a rush -- the auctioneer rattling off prices, shouts of new bids, lightning-fast decisions, thrumming heartbeats, rapid breathing, raised fingers and the psychology of immediately questioning those decisions.

All within seconds.

After each auction, by the time I climbed into my pickup I was exhausted.

Last year, I bid during a live online auction, just to see how it felt.

I scoured the bull catalog and watched videos of young bulls walking along a fence.

I picked a few bulls that I liked and logged in to the online action.

I missed the free lunch, but the auctioneer still rattled off prices and shouted out new bids. I was in the midst of lightning-fast decisions, thrumming heartbeats, rapid breathing, raised fingers and immediate questioning of those decisions.

All within seconds.

I bought a bull that I had never actually laid eyes on.

This year, I am trying a different type of online sale.

It’s more like eBay, with three days of open bidding and a race to the deadline at the end of the third day.

Again, I scoured the bull catalog and watched videos.

I picked out a few bulls that I like, then I visited the ranch to look at the bulls in person.

I scratched a few bulls from my list and added a few others.

I prioritized the bulls I liked, picking a few second-tier bulls in case my taste matches other buyers’ so the price soars above what I want to invest in my next few calf crops.

Sure enough, I have good taste.

Or at least other people evaluate bulls the same way and don’t mind bidding higher than I bid.

There’s comfort in knowing I see bulls the same way others do, but it gets expensive.

As I click on the Bid Now tab, I mentally divide the cost of the bull by the number of calves he will produce.

I’m not a fan of fathers breeding daughters. As I watch the bids rise, I calculate the risks of keeping an expensive bull an extra year. Maybe he will and maybe he won’t.

I don’t hear the auctioneer, but once again I feel my thrumming heartbeat, rapid breathing, and immediate questioning of my decision.

Then, suddenly, I own a new bull.

I fall back into my chair, exhausted.

I sure hope he does his one job.