A New Home for Nash

Nash has a new home!

This morning Nash happily stepped off of the trailer and into his forever home. It's Old Stage Alpcas, near Edgerton, WI, a fiber farm and sanctuary for llamas and alpacas. Jennifer Lafoe is the wonderful lady who runs this place, providing excellent care for critters who have been through as much as Nash has.  Jennifer says that, like the horse market, the llama/alpaca market nosedived a few years ago, and the once-trendy animals continue to be abandoned, auctioned off and even sent to slaughter.

 Jennifer supports her herd entirely out of her own pocket. She works full-time as a nurse at UW Madison and gets a little income from the yearly shearing. The camelids share space with a pot-bellied pig, two dogs, several goats, a couple of mini mules and a horse. Almost all of her animals were surrendered to her over several years from private citizens or through the county, more than a dozen of them from a single hoarding/neglect situation.

My favorite part of bringing Nash to Old Stage Alpacas was when Jennifer's herd suddenly saw Nash, and en mass, charged towards the fence. Here's a video of that, but warning: it was really windy when I was filming so the audio is awful-- it's probably better just to turn the sound off.

 He'll be introduced gradually, but he's in his own paddock for now so that he can adjust to his new surroundings. He already seems to love them-- he jumped right off the trailer and explored with enthusiasm.

 I'll post a few more pictures below.

If you want the back story on how I rescued Nash, a neglected llama running wild on a dairy farm, with the help of friends, the hindrance of a crazy lady, and a vet with a blowgun, just type "llama" into the search bar in the left corner up there. You'll get at least five separate blog posts of llama drama. Before I sign off though, I'd like to mention an awesome phone call I got while trying to find Nash a new home.

• Chris Stull in Pennsylvania helps run the Southeast Llama Rescue, a network of haulers, foster folks, adopters and rescuers. She was incredibly helpful to talk to, and offered to try to organize a transportation chain to get Nash to a top-rated llama rescue in Indiana. She rocks. Fortunately however, I found a local alternative. Anyway, she was great.

Gittin' it Done!! Chores, Drunken Llama + Vet Visit

Today was Do Everything Day!

The vet came out and gave Annie & Mr. Strut all of their vaccinations, new Coggins tests, basic checkups and fecal tests. She gave me an A+ for weight management, and said Mr. Strut was well over his founder and quite capable of being ridden (yay!) but did confirm that he has Equine Metabolic Syndrome (basically, type 2 diabetes for horses). Damn. I'm not really surprised though-- he is a gluttonous, cantankerous old fat man from the south, after all!

The vet recommend dry-lotting him if possible. I'll have to think about that-- I'm really hesitant to lock him in the concrete yard all the time, and also hesitant to destroy any part of the pasture. Strut has mangled two grazing muzzles already, so that's not an option either. The vet said my "short pasture" (the small area I fence off from the big pasture, to reduce how much my horses eat) is fine and all, but while it reduces how much they eat, it's worse for them in terms of what they're eating.

Fly masks and mosquitoes in March-- ugh!

The short, constantly-grazed grass actually increases the sugar in their diets because the tiny grass buds that form new growth are higher in sugar than the long grass on older, un-grazed pasture. *sigh* I can't win! So now what? Any suggestions, faithful readers?

While the vet was there, I had her tranquilize Nash the Uncooperative Rescue Llama, so I could finally clip his shaggy butt. I was afraid that he wouldn't go down, like our last little adventure with tranquilization, but nope-- he fell right over and started snoring, with his tongue sticking out of his mouth!! It was the most hilarious thing ever. My mother came out to help me, and it's a good thing she did, because we were barely finished when he woke up and got to his feet again. He looks much better now, even with the terrible haircut we gave him. I don't have clippers, so we just hacked away at the mats with scissors. In many places, his wool was actually felted from being compressed. After he woke up, he walked around with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, making very pathetic whining noises, but he soon recovered. I let him back out into the yard, which he seemed to appreciate.

Drunken Llama:

Before:

After:

More Drunken Llama:

 

The Giant Pile of Llama Wool (scissors on top for scale):

After all that, I emptied and scrubbed both 100 gallon water tanks and all the feed buckets, and the grain bin. Then I showered and went to work. Then I desperately wished for a nap. Luckily, it rained heavily in the evening, so I didn't have to tackle more chores after work!

How are YOUR spring chores coming? Are your horses shedding badly yet?

Captured Again!

I got Nash back in the barn! Well actually, that statement over-emphasizes my role. My previous attempts to herd him, catch him or bribe him into the barn totally failed. I ended up just waiting until he went in there himself for water, then sneakily shut the gate on him.

He was not happy:

This is the first time I've been able to catch Nash's weird noises on camera-- sort of hum-hoots, like someone blowing into a dusty trumpet. They're quiet, so you won't be able to hear them unless you have your volume turned up a bit. He did it a lot, and paced. He also had a bloody nose-- I'm not sure from what, but I suspect it was just hot and dry for him, and he had been breathing hard after his escape attempts. Poor guy. He seems okay though. And I was able to clip another big chunk of fur off of his shoulder! The video only sort of shows just how thick his wool is. I bet he's never been sheared in his entire life.

Mr. Strut flipped about the fur five seconds after this picture.

Brief Llama Update

Nash the rescued llama is on the run-- fortunately only in the cement "courtyard" of the farm, but that's plenty enough space for him to cause trouble.

I foolishly let him out of the barn, wanting him to get some exercise and fresh air, and thinking that he was tame enough to be reasonably catchable by now. Wrong! That will teach me to harbor weak thoughts of niceness. He'll still come and eat grain from my hand-- but snatch his head away at the first sign that I might try to touch him. In the barn, I could walk around slowly "chasing" him until he just stopped in a corner and gave up. Out in the courtyard, he has no such inclinations. The good news is, he still hasn't spat or kicked, and hasn't tried to jump my fences. Hooray for small victories?

Nash's determination not to be caught has led to other inconveniences. Because I fear that Nash will be murdered by my horses, I can't let them in the yard. That means I can no longer feed them in the cement hay bunker, so my precious hay has to go on the ground in the pasture, where it gets stepped on. I can't bring Annie in the yard to saddle her up, forcing me to cart everything into the mud. Finally, while Nash was in the barn and easily caught, I was making progress slowly trimming away his horrible coat of burdocks...and now, no progress is possible. That's really bad, because we're experiencing a heat wave here: 70-80 degrees! Poor Nash must be suffering under his coat. Before his venture into the courtyard, I was able to trim off significant pieces around his neck and shoulders, revealing a beautiful, soft, fluffy dark brown coat underneath. You can sort of see it here, with the ragged edges peeled back like a banana skin:

 

This is the largest chunk I was able to get off of him (my boot toe is in the pic for size reference):

 

...and that's only about 1/50th of the stuff on him!

 

Shortest Bad Ad Ever, Llama Update & Thank You to New Readers

WOW I'm so excited!! I just got featured as a guest blogger on Fuglyblog! I've been a huge fan of that blog for years, especially since the writers of Snarkyrider took over.

They say they'd like to feature me at least once more, and possibly twice. I could faint!! It's an honor-- and because of their shout-out to North Horse, I've even gotten a few new readers on THIS blog, which means people are actually reading my blog! Thank you! It's really amazing to feel like I'm not just talking to an empty room. Hi RiderWriter, Moonbrained Mare, DaniB, Katrina, Sulfurfire and any lurkers!! You guys are awesome.

Fortunately, I seem to have gained all intelligent, polite, well-spoken Fuglyfans so far. Not that I object to some conflict. I'm certainly going to see some when my BLM post hits Fuglyblog! And hey guys, please let me know what you would like to hear more about on this blog. I don't aim to be a carbon-copy of Fugly or Snarky, though I'm happy to supply some of the same kind of content if that's what people want more of. Speaking of which...

Click the ad to enlarge. Actual ad is here.

I nearly choked on my toast this morning when I read it. Never have I seen a horse seller sabotage themselves with so little effort. Usually, it takes a bad picture, a lot of misspellings AND a really stupid/selfish attitude to totally ruin a horse Craigslist ad. This one does it in the first eight words.

"GREAT WITH KIDS! not all the way broke"

And if you'll buy that, well ma'am, I have a rescued llama to sell you. He's great with kids-- just not all the way tame. Speaking of which (again), a brief llama update:

Crazy "Skyla" (okay okay, her real first name is obviously Grace) left this bag of Sweet 16 feed on the front desk at my workplace. I didn't see her do it. She didn't say hello or anything, just left it and snuck out (kind of creepy) so I'm assuming she's still miffed at me for taking over the llama rescue. Even so, she's still giving hair-brained advice (see previous blogs). As she notes urgently in red pen, high levels of copper are indeed toxic to llamas (and sheep). Unfortunately, according to the manufacturer's own website, Sweet 16, the very stuff Grace left for me, has "high levels of copper, and should not be fed to sheep."

This only goes to show you that you can't trust anybody. If you were to meet "Skyla"/Grace on the street, you would think she's a sweet, religious older lady, very well-meaning, and you might be tempted to take her advice. Well, the next time anyone gives you advice, regardless of their appearance, intentions or credentials, don't dismiss it-- but don't act on it until you've researched it yourself.

That warning applies to me, too. I wouldn't be writing this blog if I weren't doing my absolute best to fact-check everything I say-- but I'm only human. I can goof up, I have prejudices, and things might work for me that won't work for you, or vice-versa. The same thing applies to any blogger, trainer, breeder or "expert." Listen, learn, read, then do the research yourself.


The llama isn't going to be eating any of that Sweet 16. Oh, and his name is now "Nash," after the famous American Poet, Ogden Nash, who wrote:

"A one L lama is a priest
A two L llama is a beast
And I would bet a silk pajama
There's no such thing as a three L llama."

Yeah, he was kind of a silly guy.

Nash the llama is doing fine. A little too well at the moment actually.
Now that he's warmer, eating a ton, drinking as much as he wants and over the initial stress of the move, he's more energetic. He's threatening to spit a lot more often, insisting that he does not want to be petted for more than thirty seconds. I have to put a big wide collar on him in order to make him stand still while I'm visiting. However, he now knows what feed is, and after a moment's hesitation will chow down straight out of my hand.

That's "lama" as in the Dalai Lama. 

Just like an un-handled horse, he's figuring out how to get a human to A) feed him delicious things and B) leave him alone the rest of the time. I'm on to him though-- even if I get spat upon, he's going to learn to stand still and get petted, dammit. With the exception of nipping (llamas don't, 'cause they only have bottom teeth) his aggression signals are almost the same as a horse's, so I can tell him "NO!" when he pins his ears at me, and reward him when he relaxes. Our best petting session so far lasted 15 minutes, with a couple of minor escape attempts. That's major progress for a critter that was totally isolated only a week ago. I'm a little worried though-- Nash tends to pace continually whenever I'm in the barn and not holding him or feeding him. He does it in front of the barn gate, sometimes sticking his head under or through the bars.

At first I thought he was just really excited about wanting to see the horses, but I hope I'm not causing him to do this out of stress. My llama farmer contact had no advice, other than to give him time to settle in.

Oh, and my horses hate Nash. Mr. Strut avoids the yard as much as possible, only sneaking in to eat breakfast and dinner as far away as possible from the llama. He's even abandoned his favorite lounge spot. Annie isn't scared, she's jealous. I don't normally like to attribute complex human emotions to animals, but there's no mistaking this. She body-blocks me if she sees me heading towards the llama. She has begun to poop right next to his gate and nowhere else in the yard, as if to say, "Shit on you buddy." When I'm feeding Nash, even if she already has her own food, she sticks her head over the gate and trying to bite if he comes too close. Poor Nash! He didn't ask for any of this.

Llama Home at Last

A HUGE thank you to everyone who helped with this project! Also a big thank-you to blogs like Fuglyblog and Snarkyrider, which have encouraged me not to sit on my butt when I know about neglect. The llama is now home, safe and sound. Picking him up early this morning was mercifully uneventful. He even unloaded wonderfully. He's still reluctant to be touched, but will allow it for a little while. He is EXTREMELY excited by other animals-- and of course my horses were just out of their tiny minds with disbelief.

"Dear God, there's a mutant deer in our barn!"

After I locked the llama in the barn, I let the horses into the yard for breakfast. Mr. Strut immediately charged to the barn, took one look at what was inside, and spun a 180 that would have made a reining champion proud. He refused to come anywhere near the llama after that. Annie, on the other hand, stood at a distance making the "what the hell is that?!" snort and eventually felt brave enough to go up and sniff. Neither of them have met a llama before; they are totally confused.

After the horses backed off to eat breakfast, the llama became frantic; he couldn't see them anymore and paced back and forth, trying to stick his head through the gate to find them. I think he's been desperately lonely for a long time. The fact that he is not so excited by humans just proves that he's learned from experience that humans mostly suck.

 

The only bad thing about today was this:

Yeah. All that nice straw I put down for the llama's bedding stuck to the mat of burdocks embedded in his fur. He now looks like a walking haystack! I HAVE to do something about his coat. I just don't know what; if I shear him, he'll be cold, and trying to pry the burdocks out one by one may well be impossible-- and painful. He may just have to look ridiculous until it gets warmer.

Anyway, I checked on him throughout the day, and he seems to be eating, drinking and pooping just fine. He will not eat horse treats or sweet feed; tomorrow I'll try him on carrots and apples. My guess is that just like Annie was, he's been too neglected to even know what treats are.

 

Oh, and I am fascinated by his feet. Two toes with talons? They look like they belong to a fantasy creature!

Llama Saga

We got the llama!

It was NOT easy-- it took us almost three hours. The vet was an amazing shot with his tranquilizer dart blowgun, but it was hard for him to get close enough, and the llama's awful coat of burrs acted like armor. Then, even though the llama took at least two tranquilizer darts, it STILL didn't go down.

Eventually however, it did get woozy enough for the vet to lasso it-- barely. It took all of us, pushing and pulling, to make him move to the trailer. He wasn't fighting, and didn't try to spit or kick even once, but he was pretty firm about not wanting to move. Once haltered and tied to the trailer, he was reasonably calm, and the vet was able to give him wormer, vaccinations and a toenail trim. The vet reports that he's not starving, but judging by the condition of his feet, had probably never had vet care. Also, his face is seriously disfigured:

 

That weird bump thing is what's left of the top part of his nose. The vet says it looks like he'd had a small halter put on him when he was young, and as the llama grew, it was never taken off and became embedded in his skin. Eventually part of the nose actually rotted off, and part was overgrown with scar tissue.

It's truly amazing that this guy is alive.

The llama was apparently brought out to the farm by some Hispanics. They had rented part of an old pasture to raise sheep on, and became concerned about coyotes. Since llamas can act as guard animals, they put the llama in with the sheep. Eventually, the Hispanics took the sheep out-- and just left the llama. It's been there for years. It seems to have survived by roaming freely on a hayfield next to its broken-fenced pasture.

Unfortunately, the llama is not home quite yet. In the abnormally warm weather this afternoon, the field became a mudhole, and the farmer didn't want to tear up his hayfield by pulling the trailer out with his tractor until the ground is frozen again. It will freeze tonight, so the llama is camping in the trailer until early tomorrow morning. The vet said he'll be fine; he's got food, water, and the stock trailer is roomy. I don't like leaving him out there alone, especially within reach of crazy Skyla (see previous blogs) whom I can just see opening the trailer door to sing to him or bring him bagels or something. So help me God, if she lets this llama escape... I did call her to warn her NOT to open the trailer door. She reacted defensively to the whole thing, but did promise not to interfere. Becky and Erin advised me to lock the trailer. It might be a good idea, especially considering her previous lies... (again, see older blog posts)

The vet told us that the llama is large for a llama, gelded (yay!!) and probably isn't very old-- more than five, but less than ancient is the best guess he had. (Apparently, llamas can't be aged by their teeth as well as horses and deer can.) Since llamas live about 20-25 years, this poor guy should be able to enjoy a much nicer life for a good long while-- though nothing will make up for the neglect he's suffered. I'm still not sure I want to keep him permanently myself, but I guarantee he will have a good home for life no matter what. If he gets another owner besides me, you can be sure I will be triple-checking references beforehand. First things first: cleaning him up, gentling him and making sure he's healthy.

Oh, and he's going to need a name. An unreliable source (Skyla) claimed that his name might once have been "Morris." That's not fitting for a big, tough survivor like him! He doesn't need a macho name, but he does need one that reflects his will to live, and his bravery. Suggestions?

Oh, and p.s. apparently other Hispanics are keeping horses at the same farm, and possibly racing them at an underground racetrack near Jefferson. Has anyone heard anything about this?! These are the same horses I called animal control about (they did nothing).

More pictures from the llama saga:

Waiting for the tranquilizer to work.

A bag of llama poop, left by Skyla, who was convinced that the llama wouldn't poop without seeing poop nearby.

The vet and llama edge ever close to the manure pit. Uh oh!

Erin helps try to lasso the llama on the very edge of the shit pond. Ewww.

Finally got him!

First time petting him. Check out those burrs!

Llama's very first toenail trim. A few were badly twisted and overgrown.

More Llama Drama

Since the failed rescue attempt this Monday, I've been searching for a way to catch the darn llama. Suggestions from others have included:

• Hiring a roping cowboy and horse team to rope it and tie it
• Hiring someone with working dogs to herd it
• Trying to put some kind of sedative in the llama's food

Roping a llama only works if you rope a leg-- their skinny chicken necks are apparently too delicate to handle a lasso. And after you rope it using this much harder tactic, you then have a struggling llama to deal with. Dogs might work if we had some kind of corral-- but I doubt that even the best working dogs can forcefully herd an unwilling llama straight into a stock trailer. Finally, oral sedatives taste disgusting, unless they're so weak as to be practically useless-- so that was a no-go.

After playing phone tag with various vets across Wisconsin, I came round-about to a solution originally suggested by "Skyla" & crew: tranquilizer gun. (Well actually, they proposed that we might get the DNR to tranq the llama for free-- hah hah hah.) Anyway, I was referred to an older gentleman who earns substantial income acting as a sharpshooter, tranquilizing everything from donkeys to buffalo. However, he said that doing this is a tricky proposition, and he would only work with a certain vet.

Back on the phone, I eventually got ahold of this vet, who turned out to be Mike Edders of Lodi Veterinary. I love Lodi Vet (they take care of my horses). Mike said we probably wouldn't need a rifle; if he could get within 10-20 feet, he had a blowgun that would work. Blowgun?! Sweet! I set up a Saturday appointment immediately, asking him to vaccinate, deworm and check on the llama's wounds while it was sedated. Awesome-- not only could we catch the llama, it could have all the vet work done right then and there-- without having to wait weeks taming it first. After years of neglect, I'm sure the llama needs it ASAP. Mike estimated the cost would be $250-$350, depending on how long we were out there playing llama rodeo. It's a reasonable cost, though it hurts (my bank account is anemic, since my husband still isn't getting paid) but it's the right thing to do.

I called Skyla and left a message to inform her of the appointment, the cost, and asked to call up the farm boys and ask them to help pull the trailer out of the mud again. I also asked nicely whether she could chip in for the vet costs.

Skyla called back while I was at work and left me a message. She was shocked at the cost of the vet work and accused the vet of having "a heart of stone" and being greedy. I'm not sure, but she may have also accused me of inflating the costs in order to get more money from her to keep for myself. Here's a transcription of her message:

"Hi *NorthHorse* it's [Skyla] I got your message, my phone has been acting up... um, you said it was going to cost between $250 and $350... and yes I'd like to help out, but I'm confused... I thought our objective was to find someone who would do it 'pro bono,' for free, you know, with the heart of recovering this desperate animal that needs to be caretaked and new home and...has this guy got a heart of stone or something? Where he's just cutting you off a piece of his pie? I'm sure you've got good references from him...couldn't we just peck at his heart a little and get the cost down? I was hoping that since this was a rescue situation, desperate and humanitarian and stuff, he would, you know, get on board with that. I'm glad it's moving forward, but I'm a little confused."

Keep in mind that this same lady has been treating this "desperate animal" as a pet project to be taken up only after her lunch date with her daughter, walking her dog, etc etc etc. She's been delaying action for days, suggesting that moving the llama would be "traumatizing," and wanting to "make friends" with it before anything else. Originally, she even wanted to leave the llama "in the wild" since it was "fending so well for itself." Now all of a sudden it's a desperate situation?

I called Skyla back. She didn't answer, so I left another message. I very nicely explained that part of the cost was the costs of the drugs involved, which the vet couldn't change, and that while I agreed we would certainly ask the vet if he could knock a bit off the bill for charity's sake, vets have to make a living too. I asked her to please call the farmers and ask their permission about a Saturday appointment, and see if they would help me get the trailer out of the mud again.

Skyla called back while I was at work and left her shortest message ever: the answer was no. No, Saturday wouldn't work for the farmers, and Saturday wouldn't work for her either. Sorry, goodbye.

Hmmm....I called the farmers myself. Their names are Ryan and Jake, by the way; the same two young men that tried to help us catch the llama on Monday and got my truck unstuck the first time. Turns out, they're totally fine with the vet and I coming out Saturday. Ryan will be gone, but Jake is quite willing to hitch his tractor to the trailer and pull it out to the road for me.

Skyla lied in order to keep me from moving ahead with rescuing the llama. I think she wants to be in control of the situation.

Screw her then. I don't much care if Skyla's feelings are hurt. This is about the llama, not her. The sooner it receives proper food, water, shelter and vet care, the better. If I left things up to clueless-about-large-animals Skyla, that bimbo would be talking about spiritual healing in animals three months from now, while the llama dies of gangrene or something.

Though I am not going to call Skyla to tell her I'm moving ahead tomorrow, I am worried that she will show up anyway and cause a scene. She doesn't have any claim on the llama (it's my trailer, my vet, my farm, my money, and the farmers don't care) but I can see her getting upset at me/the vet/everyone in a crying hissy fit, or attempting to stop us, or following us back to my farm. Luckily, I've got backup; both Erin and Becky have agreed to help me again. What heroes! If anything does happen with Skyla, they may be able to help diffuse the situation. Or at least hold her down while the vet and I tranquilize her. (Just kidding.)

So that's it! We're on! I've taken vacation from work tomorrow, scraped the courtyard, gotten permission to borrow Dad's truck again, readied the gates and even got a lead on a nearby llama farmer for help and advice. In the morning, I'll be picking up some straw for bedding (the llama is going to have to stay locked in the barn until he's catchable) and maybe some feed to supplement the hay.

Becky's daughter is also coming along, and she says she's willing to take lots of pictures for me, so stay tuned for tomorrow's update!

P.S. Skyla has called me three times today. One of the things she wanted to tell me was that she thought she read that llamas don't like to poop where they haven't pooped before, so she filled a bag with llama poop and hung it in my trailer. Oooookaaaay....

Llama Fail

Apologies to any actual horsey people reading this blog (hah, nobody) but today is yet another llama-based blog. Today was Llama D-Day. I'd agreed to meet Skyla at the dairy farm where the neglected llama was roaming. The original plan was to simply to scope out the situation, and perhaps see if the llama could be bribed with food. (Well, Skyla's plan was to "stare at the llama" and "make friends" with it.) However, when I called her in the morning to coordinate, Skyla seemed especially gung-ho to get the llama moved. Not wanting to waste her sudden change of heart about "traumatizing" the animal, I jumped on the phone and started to try to round up helpers.

Dad wasn't feeling too well (or perhaps contracted a diplomatic virus to excuse his non-involvement), but I borrowed his truck and got over to the farm, where my friend Becky was waiting to help. After that, the entire rest of the afternoon was an almost unmitigated disaster.

First, the pasture gate was frozen to the ground and had to be chipped out, so that when Mr. Llama arrived, he could be separated from the horses.

I actually took this picture after the day was over, and then promptly dropped my cell phone into the muddy slush puddle.

Next, hitching the trailer to the truck took about seven frustrating tries because I'm an idiot, and because when you're in a hurry is the worst time to hurry. Luckily, the trip to the dairy farm itself was uneventful, and along the way I was even able to kidnap another friend, Erin, to help. She and Becky are truly good friends; it's not everyone that will agree to try and go rescue a wild llama on the spur of the moment, on a weekday, in the snow. Unfortunately, when we got there I immediately got the truck and trailer stuck in the mud, manure and snow-melt of the sloppy farm yard. Of course it wasn't paved, and was full of narrow, steep, rutted hillocks. By asking nicely I got a couple of the farmers to pull the truck out of the mud and re-position it in a better place. No doubt they thought our whole crew were idiots, and they looked very busy-- nevertheless, they did their best to help us. I don't really blame them for the llama's neglect. They appear to be hired hands or younger sons, working at a hard, filthy job on what looks to be a secondary farm. It's not their llama, not their job, not their concern. They may be guilty of simple indifference, but so am I-- how many times have I driven past this llama and not done anything about it?

 

The llama was out in the middle of a hay field. The dilapidated cow pasture it might once have been contained in doesn't really have fences. It does have some standing snags of barbed wire that constantly threatened to trip and injure us and the llama as it evaded us. The sheer size of the llama's area is discouraging. There must be well over 100 acres of barren fields that the llama can run around on. That made trying to corral it nearly impossible. The farm didn't have any area at all to even begin to contain the furry critter. Nevertheless, we tried.

 

Oh how we tried. We tried surrounding it and walking slowly, herding it up towards the trailer. We tried the same thing with a rope to try to form a moving fence. We tried running around it like a wolf pack, scaring it towards the trailer. We tried tempting it with food (this worked) and then lassoing it (this failed miserably). Erin almost got knocked down, I got a nasty rope burn, and the llama didn't seem to tire. When we finally realized that there was just no way we were going to get the llama to the trailer, we tried to bring the trailer to the llama. This involved a plunge down an questionable field drive and a hair-raising trip across the snowy ground, fishtailing all the way. Once there, we realized the llama was even further afield, and half our volunteers were ready to be done.

Llama rescuers unite! Sort of.

Becky and Erin were great sports, getting their frozen feet soaked, jogging through the brush and helping uncomplainingly despite the numerous setbacks. The other three...Well, I've blogged about how weird "Skyla" is before. She showed up with 60 feet of clothesline "rope" and a red plastic tub (to serve the llama hay in). In this picture, she's the one dressed like an eccentric nun in a rainstorm. She spent her time hobbling after us, making odd suggestions and mildly disparaging remarks about our efforts. Her friend in the front-middle of this picture showed up quite late and chatted with Skyla most of the time. Ken, hiding in the back of the group, played the role of "manager," offering a constant stream of useless advice based on his "expert" knowledge of llamas, apparently gained by knowing someone who had one once. Despite the farmers' offers of assistance with their tractors, Ken insisted on being the one to get my truck out of the sticky field. In my first wise moment of the entire day, I gave him the keys and walked away. Sometimes, you just have to let a man do his "man thing" and pretend not to notice how stupid he's being. It saves arguments and overall, time. For Ken, this meant him putting hay under the rear wheels of the front-wheel drive truck to serve as traction. Though he did finally get the truck unstuck, he left me plenty of time to snap pictures. We left the trailer behind, open and full of hay, in the unlikely event that the llama might decide to go in on its own, or at least become used to its presence. At the very very least, there is finally some food available. Besides which, if I had demanded to bring it home, I'm sure Ken would have insisted on helping.

 

The worst part of the failed chase was knowing that although the llama was feisty enough to run away from us, it's clearly suffering. We found spatters and drops of blood in many places, and Erin mentioned the llama's deformed, injured-looking face without any influence on my part. Clearly, it's not just me that thinks his head is messed up.

 

We're not giving up. We are, however, looking at a possible solution that I had at first ridiculed: a tranquilizer gun. Yes, apparently vets do have these. The question is, how expensive is it going to be to hire a vet to traq a llama? Will that even work? Why do I have to be the kind of person that worries about a goddamn wild-ass llama in the first place? These questions and more may be resolved by next Monday.

Aside from "Skyla's" numerous unintentionally funny statements and the dedication of my friends, the only highlight of today was seeing the baby calves. Dairy cows are weird-headed, slobbering, stinky monsters. Dairy calves are probably the cutest things on the entire planet. *sigh* I really need to work pasture-fed organic meat and dairy into my budget.