Fond feelings for old things

Normally we give big round bales to our steers on a kind of planned schedule, but there are times when our plans are laid aside. A couple weeks ago we were out graining our two groups of steers. We have five big steers that probably average 950 to 1,000 pounds apiece. Then we have five small steers that are from about 400 pounds up to 700 pounds. The bigger ones are ready to butcher and the others a year from now.

Well anyway, as we were graining the two bunches, we noticed that the little steers were virtually out of hay, They had part of a bale left, but it was rough and mostly weeds so we decided to give them a new bale. It was close to dark and was getting cold. The temp was down in the teens with moisture and wind that made it feel colder. As I sat on our old Massey Ferguson 135, I got to thinking that maybe a tractor with a cab and a heater might be a good idea. Marge and our oldest son both have commented that I need to get rid of my old tractors and trade them for a new one. My three tractors date back to 1948 and 1968, and the newest one is a 1976.

But the thing is I really like the old Massey Ferguson 135. We bought it soon after moving out where we live 25 or 30 years ago. A pastor friend who lived up by Scopus called us and told us about the tractor. He had seen it on a sale bill advertisement. The tractor had 735 hours on it and still had the original tires on it so we drove up east of St. Louis and bought it.

It has been a really good tractor. The power steering kept going out, so I replaced it with manual steering. I put new treads on all four corners. We've mowed with it and raked and baled hay. And we've dragged many a tree up to our wood pile to cut for firewood. I really like the tractor. I have feelings for the old tractor.

I grew up in ranching country where everyone raised cattle with most of them being black or white faced Herefords or a mix. Everyone worked their cattle horseback so pretty much everyone had a saddle. One gets attached to their saddle. After spending hours in the saddle day after day and month after month, you kind of wear your saddle so it fits you, or you wear down and fit the saddle. You get attached to your saddle. I have an elderly cousin who no longer rides and works cattle who has her saddle in the front room of her house right by her easy chair.

But don't we all kind of get attached to inanimate objects. You may be attached to a certain cake pan that belonged to your mom. Maybe an old .25-20 Winchester that belonged to your dad. Maybe an old No. 8 Crescent cast iron skillet that Mom cooked on. Maybe a No. 10 crock to make pickles in.

But we also get attached to family and friends and at times complete strangers. Who hasn't picked up a baby dog or cat and had his heart strings touched? We bought two jersey steers, and Marge decided to gentle them down and turn them into pets. That's how we are made. I have an old high tunnel cat that looks us up every day for a few pets and some loving. And to be honest I give her some pets and some loving. That bond or affection or warm fuzzy feeling between animals or people is part of how God made us.

Today, I have a group of friends and loved ones and fur babies and even tractors and old muzzleloaders that I care deeply for. I enjoy being with my friends and spending time visiting or having coffee. I enjoy a brief chat texting on our cell phones or a brief chat on Facebook. Love is a risk because at some point one may end up hurting. But honestly to love and care is worth the risk.