Can’t Pay. Slow Pay. Won’t Pay.

Just outside my office, there’s a weathered post.

It doesn’t move.  It doesn’t speak.

But it says everything.

It’s a quiet symbol of something loud in my world:

Can’t Pay. Slow Pay. Won’t Pay.

In 17 years of owning and operating SDP Buffalo Ranch — and my lifetime around horses before that, thanks to my parents — I’ve learned that our business doesn’t just run on horsepower. It runs on cashflow.

No cash?  No hay.  No payroll.  No business.

Like any other operation — whether you’re trimming hooves or trading stocks — the math has to work.  And the truth is, when someone doesn’t pay their invoice, they’re not just hurting one person.  It ripples.  It slows down the whole system.

The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics says 24% of businesses fail within the first year. 50% by year five. 65% before year ten.

Rough odds.

Entrepreneurship is a wild ride.  Total terror one moment, sure exhilaration the next.  Drudgery with no let-up.  Pressure that can make a diamond or crush you.

Lying in bed at night, with the weight of your world pushing down on your chest, with thoughts of:

“How am I going to make payroll tomorrow?”

If you’ve been there, you know.

If you haven’t, no explanation will do.

Business Isn’t Just Bucks

Horses are a passion, but this is a business.  And like every business, cashflow is king.

I just thought of this but seems accurate for quality of customers:

• Platinum – Pay the moment the invoice hits.
• Gold – Within 15 days.
• Silver – Within 30.
• Bronze – 45 days.
• Dog Food Level – Only pay if chased, begged, or threatened.

If you’re in that last group, we’re not for you.  You are a liability, not an asset.

Because when customers won’t pay, I can’t pay. It’s that simple.

Margins in this industry are razor thin. Passion gets you started, but discipline and mutual respect keeps the wheels turning.  Trying to stay ahead of economic inflation, asset depreciation, competition and good old fashion, acts of God – Business is tough.

And let’s be honest: horses are a discretionary spend. This isn’t food, fuel, or shelter.

If your financial foundation isn’t steady, this probably isn’t your season to play cowboy.

We Aren’t Perfect — But We’re Honest

Horses get sick or injured.  Mares don’t settle.  Foals can die.  Sometimes, despite everything, things go wrong.

I cannot control outcomes.  I can only control effort.

We own that.  We do our best to communicate, to make things right when they go sideways, and to keep our standards high. We’ve got a strong track record.

We’re not flawless — but honest.

I’ve never walked on water.  Have you?

That same honesty shows up outside the ranch, too.

A few weeks ago, I backed into a Jeep in a parking lot. No witnesses. No cameras.

Still, I found the owner, explained what happened and said I would repair the damage.  He first went to the dealer for a quote.  We discussed it and if I should process an insurance claim.  By this time, I think he glimpsed into my character further and trusted that I would do the right thing.  Arrangement was made for me to purchase a much-upgraded front bumper to the factory bumper that the dealership was to charge triple what the fancier bumper would cost.  We arranged for him to bring his Jeep to my shop and my Team handled the install.  

He text me when it was all done:

“I just wanted to sincerely thank you for your kindness and generosity.  It’s rare to come across people like you these days. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

I do not share that for ego or an Atta-boy.

I shared it because it is simple.

That’s what you do.

Honesty. Integrity. Code of the West.

That still means something.

 

A Tale of Two Clients

Last month, a customer dropped off an untrained breeding stud for collection.  Later, they raised a ruckus over a miscommunicated $175 processing fee.

They spoke loudly at my team. I asked for calm, explained the fee, apologized for the miscommunication and said there’d be no more business between us. They paid, then ran straight to Facebook, crying foul.

The mob, of course, gathered. Pitchforks and all.

What they didn’t mention?

The video footage of my team helping them load their stallion after 17 minutes of trying.

Not exactly the behavior of greedy villains.

That same week, I had to call one of my longest-standing clients to let him know that a foal he had invested nearly $30,000 in — embryo purchase from a major breeder, mare care, transfer fees — was born premature and died.  A real tragedy.

His response?

“Thank you for letting me know. I know your team did all they could. There’s no place I’d rather have my horses.  Let’s talk next steps”

That’s a man I’d go to war for. No question.

The Rules

If you can’t afford it, don’t attempt it.

When times are tight, talk it through.  Be up front.

If you’re behind, just communicate.

But if you’re playing games, disappearing, or throwing mud online — we’re not your people.

This isn’t about ego.

It’s about survival — and standards.

My Team is special.  They have my back and I have theirs.  I am grateful they are in my life.

My greatest desire in business is to build on the legacy my parents started and, God willing, pass it on to my kids.

Watching some of them work alongside me this past year has been one of my greatest joys. Whether they stay in the business or find their own path, I’ll support them fully. But I hope they carry the values forward — values that still matter.

Somethings don’t change with time.

Out here, a handshake is supposed to mean something.

Let’s keep it that way.