All the farms that I have acquired over the years also have livable homes. Although I never aspired to be a landlord, the present state of the economy makes it necessary for me to rent them out. I’ve always tried to be very selective to whom I rent, because I have cattle on every one of the places and I need people who have a record of being trustworthy. So far, I’ve been very fortunate in getting good renters who take good care of the houses and know enough to keep an eye on the livestock. Even those renters without any farm background have been ‘teachable’ after a few months. But, every time I have a house become vacant, I dread the process of finding a new, reliable renter.
Last month, I had a renter move out of one of the nicer homes. As usual, I advertised the house and gave a brief description of its physical features and location, along with price and deposit. The first person to call and set up an appointment was a woman who had just moved to the area from California. That, in itself, sent up warning flags… but she had a pleasant voice so we agreed on a time to meet at the house later that day.
When she called that afternoon to tell me she was on her way, and to get specific directions, she must have interrupted me 10 times, because I was talking in terms of “north, south, east, and west,” and she only understood, “left, right, and straight ahead.” Eventually, I decided just to meet her at the interstate exit and let her follow me the nine miles to the house.
I was trying my best to have an open mind when I met her, but upon her exit from her car, I immediately had flashbacks to my college days of the 1970s. Even though she was close to my age, she looked and dressed just like all the “peace, love and incense” kids I had gone to school with in those turbulent times. She looked all around (north, south, east and west) in amazement and drew in a deep breath. “I love the smell of fresh air,” she stated emphatically. “And I can’t see another house anywhere. This is Eden!”
Together, we looked through the house and she seemed satisfied. “Would you mind if I have a small garden in the yard to grow my own organic produce?” she asked.
I told her that would be acceptable, but she would have to keep it back a distance from the fence so the cows wouldn’t reach through and eat them.
“Oh, you have cattles?”
“Yes, I have cattle,” I stated, trying to emphasize the absence of an ‘s’ on the end.
“I love cattles,” she went on, “can I pet them?”
I tried my best to explain to her that they weren’t pets and it probably wouldn’t be very safe for her to get too close to them. She seemed disappointed.
Later, she asked me if it would be permissible to store some of her extra stuff in the barn. Again, I told her that would be a possibility IF she was the one I chose to rent the place, but that she would need to store everything in mouse-proof boxes. “Don’t worry about that,” she stated, “I love all of God’s creatures and can co-exist with any of them whether they be mices or cattles.”
After a few more minutes of small talk, where I learned about her transcendental meditations, holistic approach to nutrition and medicine, and non-violent positions on civil disobedience, she gave me her references and phone number before getting in her car to leave. She pleasantly asked if I could let her know by next week if she was the one. Politely, I nodded “Yes.”
As her car pulled out of the driveway, I couldn’t help but notice the two bumper stickers on her car. The one on the right side let the world know that she was a dues-paying member of PETA, while the one on the left showed her support for the activities of HSUS.
I think the two farm boys I leased the house to the following week are going to be excellent renters. If for no other reasons, they know the sun rises in the east, sets in the west, and the word “cattle” is already plural.
Jerry Crownover is a farmer and former professor of Agriculture Education at Missouri State University. He is a native of Baxter County, Arkansas, and an author and professional speaker. To contact Jerry call 1-866-532-1960 or visit www.ozarksfn.com and click on ‘Contact Us.’
