Magic Ball: the Billionaire in Ranch

59 Profit and Calving

The more prolonged the calves stay with their mothers, Noah learned that the value of his gain declines. He definitely had to put his feet on the game, or else, he'd have more losses than gains.

He decided that he needed to start weaning them at two to three months so that they can grow some more inside the Magic Ball.

After three months, Noah began the weaning process of the calves. In addition, he decided to separate the cows that birthed this year, from those that have yet to be impregnated by the bulls.

"Set-up two pens," he said with the pen over his ears, "place the newly-birthed cows here," he pointed his index finger on the Stream Ranch blueprint. "While we're just about to begin weaning the calves from their mother, we can use them as one of the attractions on our tourist site.”

Nancy’s eyes sparkled, the agreement showing on her face, “We can definitely do that. But would we just be displaying them in the pen?”

“What else can we do?” Wynn answered, “we can’t have them held or fed by children. We don’t know what would happen if we do so,” he implied.

Beckoning her hands in agreement, Nancy hummed, “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that.” Her eyes found Wynn’s, “Then we’d just let the tourists look at them. They're fun to just look at, after all," she ended her sentence with a smile.

"Then, we'll move forward with that plan," Noah gave them a full-blown smile.

Nancy stepped closer to where they were, “By the way, when are you taking them to that special farm you’re talking about?”

The dread to have answered that specific question had always gotten Noah's heart racing in turmoil. He responded immediately, "About a week from today. We have got to make them get through the weaning process first. Their mother’s milk is much more important. It gives them all the nutrition they need.”

“I agree with that,” Thomas seconded. “I haven’t taken cared of cows that much, but I've heard from other ranchers that it was really the deal that when calves lessen your profit, the longer they stay inside the ranch."

"Then, we are settled." Noah wondered how on earth he would transport the calves to his home back near the city. He should've had settled here in the farmhouse. Although, transferring the calves in the Magic Ranch would be one hell of a sneaky tactic. Getting under the nose of his parents and employees cost him a lot—he hopes to sneak the animals without any of them suspecting what had happened.

Mainly because it involved the Magic Ball.

Two weeks went by, and it was a whirlwind. Noah and his employees had been working non-step to help the weaning process of the calves go well. They had to take several precautions since it’s a first for all of them.

The bulls had been separated from the cows that had given birth. Noah noted that they should bore children for about two months more or so. In the meantime, those who haven't had children yet were left with the bulls on the other side of the pen. It was all planning and regulations.

And after long days of getting busy and planning what’s the next step, Noah had succeeded in weaning his first batch of calves.

He managed to exhale a breath and pat his employees back to do a job well done.

After all, they deserve it—on second thought, he mentally noted that he should compensate them for the labor they have placed during these last two months. He'd surprised them, for sure.

They ran faster than the wind just to do this in time. They wrecked their minds on planning marketing strategies to get the calves ready and reserved for when they come out in Noah's particular raising farm—it was what they had settled in calling the ranch inside his Magic Ball. His parents had been a great help, although Noah had already insisted that they stay put and sit around like they told Noah when he was just a child. His father, of course, was against it.

The older man refused to be treated like a child who didn't know-how around the world. Noah explained carefully to him what was needed to be done. There was this and that and all the rules he infused with his employees. Despite that, his father's pride was a solid rock that refused to be hammered into pieces. He was stubborn and insisted Noah he is part of every job on the ranch. So, Noah had to think of a way to get him to work and not be part of every job position on the ranch.

He agreed to accompany Thomas in planning strategically on what to do with the tourists at the other wing of the ranch.

Noah sighed a breath of fresh air when his father conceded, his mother laughing at their arguments. Then, he sneakily—and safely, of course—placed all the calves in the Magic Ball. He began raising them inside, feeding, and training them with all the beautiful resources he could use. And it was all thanks to the magical place no one knew existed.

Or at least that’s what he’d call the wonders inside the Magic Ball.

It was the right choice that Noah made an alliance of ranchers. Shaking his head while writing notes inside his office, he knew he really made the right choice. The reason behind it? The marketing of his calves. Nodding to himself, it was a great relief indeed.

As a newbie in the field of making a profit in selling cattle, Noah felt the relief gush through him when Taylor, the funny rancher he preferred amongst the other that joined that alliance, informed him that they will start marketing their cattle in the market.

As embarrassing as it may be, Noah admitted to Taylor that his knowledge was limited in the area. Whether foe or friend, he confided in the older man.

When they have an afternoon teen in his patio, Taylor explained to him—in a manner that wouldn’t add to his wounded ego—how stuff works during calving season. Perhaps he had noted too much of every word Taylor had spoken. And when the time to decide knocked on his wooden door, Noah was lost.

There was an ample amount of considerations. And the said list needs proper planning—strategic, calculated, and wise. So he opted for a meeting. A family and employee meeting, since his father didn’t want to give up the idea of sitting idly on a rocking chair. It grazed his masculinity, and Noah had to sigh in exhaustion when he appeared behind his office door.

Taylor began his lecture. First, the words that slid out of his mouth were foreign. Noah started to ask himself if he heard things right. Marketing was complicated, but Taylor made it into a whole new language that no one can comprehend.

But rest assured, because at the end of the meeting, Noah and his employees—including his persistent father, and watchful mother who brought them biscuits and tea—were probing Taylor with questions.

Consider the weight of the calves as well as the season that they were born into. There was also the thing with counting every profit lost every second that they eat. But Nancy, the bright woman that she is, raised her hand in the air. Still, a student if one would ask, and she asks questions they can raise a lecture with.

“That means we regulate their food…” she trailed off, her hand touching her chin. “Or am I taking this in a different light?”

Taylor raised his thumb, “Correct!”

From his answer, Nancy’s eyes are stars that shined, the fondness elicited in the way she moved her head. 

The teacher, whom Noah was accustomed to as a funny and timid man, wagged his eyebrows toward his audience. "Now, consider their weight. More and less is never good. We must target a specific weight—a balance that would attract the consumers. Too much fat isn't healthy for the market. And usually, the calves either gain weight from unsupervised eating or become malnutrition from weaning too early. They need milk from their mother's, after all."

“Especially the weaning period,” Taylor added, his eyes drifting faster than light toward Noah’s face void of any emotion.

The pressure was a hollow block that he carried on both of his shoulders.

His thoughts drifted back to the calves he left inside the Magic Ball. The questions and doubts began flooding his mind in endless circles. It wouldn’t even let him blink. Or if he does, the images of the calves running around and eating grass on his field made him anxious to an extent.

Shaking his head lightly, the movement so slow that no one caught what he was doing, Noah made up his mind.

He needs to check on the calves. If weight is a significant factor, then food regulation is the key to the locked door of success.

“I will take note of that. Every hay, every minute that the calves are here.”

"Wynn tells me that you have a separate farm for weaning?" inquired Taylor, his eyebrow shaped like a wave.

He looked interested, and Noah doesn’t like where this is going.

Catching Wynn’s stare, his mouth was already in a thin line. It was neither an indication of frown or disappointment.

On the other hand, Wynn seemed as if he wasn’t aware of what Taylor had reiterated.

“Me?” he said in disbelief. His stare stayed on the wooden floor. It went back to Noah, and the determination was there. “I didn’t tell him anything.”