Call them Sales Agreements or Sales Contracts, is it time to move past the “handshake deal”? What does paperwork have to do with livestock farming?

There’s a quiet discomfort around sales agreements in agriculture. Sometimes, I can feel it when I bring them up. There’s a pause, something in the air changes and I detect a whiff of offence. Then it comes —

“Don’t you trust me?”

And there it is, the inevitable question that misses the point entirely.

Why Have A Sales Agreement?

A sales agreement is a legally binding contract between buyer and seller. If you’ve ever signed your John Hancock on an agreement of any kind — a mortgage, a car loan, a driver’s licence, a waiver, a registration — you’ve signed a contract. A Sales Agreement (I call them agreements because people do get a little skittish when the word “contract” comes out to play. I have no idea why) is a tool, primarily a communications tool. It’s a communications tool with a particular set of parameters, a predetermined set of outcomes and a very clear process.

It outlines:

• What is being sold
• The condition of that animal
• Any representations made about health, breeding, or history
• The responsibilities of both parties
• What happens if something goes wrong

Once signed, it is enforceable but that’s not a threat and shouldn’t be interpreted as one. A sales agreement is a NOT a work-around for lack of trust — it’s what gives everything that follows some solid ground to stand on.

Two True Stories

If you think this is theoretical, it’s not. I’ve done this both ways. . . As they say, read it and weep.

First up, “The Case Of The Hand Shake Deal.” An animal left the farm without a formal agreement. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I know where to find you.” It was Christmastime, there were young children and December and January are tight months — I remember only too well. I had a relationship with them, they’re good people. There was trust, there was goodwill. There was every intention of doing things properly. In this scenario, there were no bad guys at all. . . There was just life. And it happened.

Circumstances changed — suddenly and significantly — on the buyer’s end. No bad actors. No deception. Just reality.

But the animal is gone, the payment is not fully settled and there is no agreement to point to that clearly defines timelines, obligations, or recourse. I still have all my bills to pay — the feed bills, the vet bills, the energy bills but the money that would have helped get that done in a way that keeps my feed store, my veterinarians and Epcor happy isn’t there.

So now what? I’m stuck in that grey space trying to navigate a situation that has shifted without a shared framework to guide it. Even if payment schedules have to change, there’s nothing there to work from, I’m operating in the dark.

Next, “The Case Of The Unnecessary Contract.” This time, I insisted on a signed sales agreement and my buyer was offended. He was pissed. He told me, glowering like a bull, that he’d never buy another animal from me ever again. We were finished.

They signed, but under the strongest possible protest. I felt miserable. The animal left my property and a month later, the animal died.

That is exactly the kind of moment where things can unravel.

Except this time, they didn’t. . . Because the expectations, responsibilities, and limits of liability had already been clearly defined—in writing, and agreed to by both parties, the agreement held.

Again, no one behaved really badly. There were some singed feathers after the initial signing but I’m a big girl and I can take it. Still, when I think of what might have happened, I feel very fortunate that the agreement was in place. Did it cost me? Evidently. . . but it might have cost me much more.

Memory. . . All Alone In the Moonlight. . . Uh, What?

Without a written agreement, everything that follows lives in:

• Memory
• Assumption
• Interpretation

And even between the best people with outstanding characters and unimpeachable reputations, those things can shift over time. I can’t remember what I had for breakfast most days (or I wouldn’t except that I eat the same thing for breakfast every day) so relying on my own memory puts me at a distinct disadvantage. It’s because I want to be honourable and transparent that I write things down.

A sales agreement says:

This is what we both understand to be true, right now, in writing.

That’s not distrust, that’s clarity. The existence of the sales agreement takes nothing away from the relationship, it says nothing about what I think about someone else’s character. It’s simply a record of what we both understand to be true at that moment.

Being Professional Means Being Consistent

If you use sales agreements sometimes — but not always — you are not using them professionally, you are using them selectively. After my two little case studies, I decided on this approach — no exceptions. Not for anyone at any time. There is always a sales agreement.

On our farm, sales agreements are applied:

• Regardless of relationship
• Regardless of how long we’ve known someone
• Regardless of whether the transaction feels “formal” or not

Because the moment you make exceptions, you introduce inconsistency and I have found that inconsistencies are like the gap between my truck’s driver’s seat and the centre console — when I’ve got something important to juggle, where will it inevitably fall if I don’t take precautions? That’s right — into that sliver of space where I can’t quite retrieve it, where the effort to fish it back out into daylight is exponentially more work than it would have been if I’d just taken the right steps in the first place.

Professionalism is not about distance.

It’s about standards that hold, every time.

The Basics

A good sales agreement does two critical things:

1. It sets clear expectations

• Health status (including testing)
• Breeding status
• Registration or paperwork
• Transport arrangements
• Payment terms

Nothing is implied or left “open to interpretation.” Everything is stated up front and in the clear.

2. It defines recourse

If something is not as described, then what?

• Is there a return window?
• A replacement?
• A refund?
• Shared responsibility?

Without an agreement, those conversations happen after the fact—often under pressure, and rarely cleanly. If you think I felt a little scorched after asking for the signed agreement, imagine how I would have felt if I’d had to navigate the loss of the animal? I can’t see a way that would have ended well. This is not an area for improvisation. This is when you want a clear path, already laid out.

In Good Faith

There’s a persistent idea that contracts exist because someone expects bad behaviour.

That’s not true. At least, in my experience, I’ve never believed anyone at either end of the contracts has been guilty of anything. I’ve done my due diligence and gone into agreements with my eyes wide open with people I felt good about working with. In my two case studies, in neither case did I think either of those folks were trying to pull the wool over my eyes. In both cases, the Sales Agreement was the right way forward — in one case, it may have quite literally saved me a lot of angst.

Contracts exist because:

• Humans misunderstand each other. No shade! This is just humans being humans.
• Circumstances change. Life is unpredictable and sometimes, it throws curveballs at us.
• Memory is imperfect.
• Stress alters perception.

A sales agreement protects both parties — it protects the buyer from misrepresentation and it protects the seller from shifting expectations. And while it does all that, it’s also giving everyone something to stand on when things get complicated.

In Every Other Industry

You would never:

• Buy a house without paperwork
• Purchase a vehicle without a bill of sale
• Enter a business partnership without terms

So why, in agriculture—where we are dealing with live animals, health status, and long-term outcomes—would we rely on a handshake? O, I know. It’s “tradition.” Tradition is just peer pressure from dead people, pigeons. Don’t put too much faith in tradition — it can become very malleable. Tradition is no substitute for structure.

Certified Animal Welfare Approved

There’s one other hitch for us — we are Animal Welfare Approved. This is without a doubt the thing I am MOST proud of. I worked really hard for that certification and keeping it in good standing is my absolute priority.

My AWA certification requires:

• Traceability
• Documentation
• Accountability

And sales agreements are part of that framework. They are not an extra layer, they are an intrinsic part of our built system, a key part of my commitment to transparency. If I’m going to make claims about welfare and integrity, then my paperwork has to reflect that. There’s a nasty name folks get called if their words and actions don’t line up. My Dad always used to tell me that at the end of the day, my good name was all I’d have to take with me and it was up to me to protect it. My certification and the sales agreements that are required as part of the certification are key parts of taking care of my good name. When people come to me, they know who they’re dealing with — after all, I’m willing to put it in writing.

Sign On The Bottom Line

At its best, a sales agreement is not a barrier. It’s a shared document that says:

• We are taking this seriously
• We respect the value of these animals
• We respect each other’s role in this exchange
• We are willing to be clear, upfront, and accountable

It removes ambiguity and the potential for variation and inconsistency to break down relationships. I want to operate with integrity and to do that, I need structure. I want to be around for many years and for that to happen, I need clarity. I want to protect my animals, my time, my work and my name — to do that, I need documentation.

A sales agreement isn’t a sign that I’m expecting things to go pear-shaped. A sales agreement protects us both in case they do.

Curious about our Sales Agreement? Take a look!

This is a Tending post — a practical look at our tools, methods, routines, and on-the-ground decision-making. It’s not a one-size-fits-all how-to, and it isn’t meant to substitute for local knowledge or professional guidance. It’s just what we’ve found useful and what we’re doing here on our farm, in our conditions, with our sheep (and alpacas), written down plainly in case it helps. For more about why we do things the way we do them, the philosophy that informs our process, you’ll find those posts in Living.