By Susan E. L. Lake
I’d never been to a pig sale before and never expected to, but I’m glad I got to go to this one. After three days of working at the Ring of Success sale, I have come to appreciate a side of the ag world that I want to share with you.
You probably know what I saw and heard as I soaked up all the smells, sounds, and conversations around me. I watched sellers unload and guide their animals into pens, register to pick up ear tags, and then place their animals for sale in the ring. I talked to buyers who needed numbered cards in order to join the bidding process and kids who just came along to watch. I heard a cowboy worship service and the auctioneer’s chant and the squeal of pigs. I weaved my way through hoards of people all focused on a single process – to transfer a pig from one owner to another. That’s what happened, but there was more than this going on.
Sellers who were given more tags than they paid for brought in the money they owed. Sellers who were given the wrong numbers politely explained the situation as if they were somehow part of the problem instead of blaming the novice packaging the tags.
Buyers who were anxious to get a numbered ticket never hurried those handing them out or spoke a harsh word. Yes, they themselves hurried sometimes barely putting down the information we needed, but that need for speed didn’t carry over into their interaction with us. They were always patient and polite even as they glanced anxiously at the auction crowd afraid they wouldn’t get there in time.
A buyer whose pig suddenly died only hours after changing ownership was given his money back by the seller. There were no questions. There was just the desire to fix the problem. The USDA representative who was consulted about the disposal of the animal showed as much concern about its impact on the nearby children as he did on the legal issues explaining humorously that he’d check with the kids and they weren’t bothered by the dead pig or bothering it.
And then there was the gentleman who brought in the lost wallet. He didn’t even know who it belonged to because he hadn’t opened it to look. He just knew that he himself was twenty hours from home and he’d be “in serious hurt if he lost his.” No finder’s fee. No thanks. No problem. Just the right thing to do.
Food was given to those who were hungry and hugs given to old friends. Children who clearly knew their responsibility tended to animals. Other children clearly proud of their responsibility wrote out checks to cover the cost of their new livestock purchase. One man said to another “I’ve got a spare sack of shavings – just over there in my pen. Use it for now till you can get your own.”
Generosity, courtesy, and caring. That’s what I saw and heard. There wasn’t anything in the morning newspapers about this and there won’t be in next week’s either. But I’ll remember, and I’ll try to tell others. They need to know that there’s a place and a time like this. Thank you for seeing that the tradition survives. And thank you for letting me come to the pig sale.