top of page

Llamas

Good Lord, what's happening out there? Could you people, PLEASE get signed up for Medicare Part C so they will take those commercials off television? I can't stand it, they call my phone six times a day. Even one of my childhood heroes, Joe Namath is in on it. By the way, have you noticed how big his ears are? I'm sorry, my daughter calls that ear shaming.


Listen, I would miss you reading these stories, but it would be OK, if you stopped reading and got signed up. You can always come back and read it later.


Now for the real story. With great sadness, Elaine and I have come to the end of an era, and now we have a decision to make.


It was in the late 1990's that Elaine and I developed a mutual dream. We thought we wanted to move to the country. Our first batch of kids were growing up. Elaine and I needed new hobbies. To speed this story up, Elaine and I devised a plan to pay some bills, move to the country, and raise fiber animals.


It would have been a great plan if I had followed it in the order I just wrote. While still living in a cul-de-sac in town, I jumped the gun and bought Elaine three Angora goats. For those of you who are wondering Angora goats are shaved to produce mohair, you know that scratchy fiber they use for things that should never touch your skin. Please don't tell Elaine I said this, she loves the (construction language).


We might have made the decision to buy the goats before we moved to the country a little more problematic. Elaine (and I) grew the goat herd to thirty-three goats while still living in the cul-de-sac. I know you are wondering about the cul-de-sac. The goats were not in the cul-de-sac, were rented some farmland for the goats.


We were on a roll, and Elaine wasn't finished. At a goat auction, Elaine purchased not one, but two male llamas, she could/would have bought six if I hadn't stopped her. It would take two full days to type the story of the goat/llama auction, so maybe someday I'll tell it when I'm old(er).


Cul-de-sac, thirty-three goats, two male llamas (who happened to be wild). Now, I'm going to say something here that will anger the llama industry. LLamas are cool, but not that cool. Llama owners give their llamas names that sound like European royalty to make them more cool. Not me. Elaine's llamas were named Adagio and Allegro. I couldn't live with that. I changed their names to Push (the black one) and Pull (the brown one).


Still in the cul-de-sac, Elaine and I decided the goats were not that cool, (although profitable) we would sell them and get more llamas. A quick trip to Wyoming to drop off the goats followed by a trip to eastern Colorado we were goatless and now the llama herd was bigger. Females this time. Another long story. While loading the llamas into the trailer in eastern Colorado, the oldest female gave me a little shove. Keeping with a verb theme (Push, Pull) and hating llama names, I named her Shove. The small female, tripped jumping into the trailer. Would you like to guess what I named her? Yep, Trip!


Fast forward. When you have male and female llamas you are going to get more llamas, plus you might buy a few more along the way. Anyway, Shove got pregnant. Is that how you say it?


While still in the cul-de-sac, we scheduled a llama health day with veterinarians from Colorado State University. The vets assured Elaine and me that Shove was not pregnant. It wasn't long after the assurance Shove was in labor and struggling. The cria (baby llama) was stuck in the birth canal. Me, being the cul-de-sac rancher, construction worker, and veterinarian, I had to react. I grabbed the cria by the legs a pulled it out of the birth canal. They lived. The cria (female)needed a name. I had already used Pull. Are you following me? I named her Yank.


That was twenty-two years ago. In those twenty-two years, all of our llamas have crossed over the bridge to provide fiber for the heavens. They all shared the pasture in the mountains of Colorado. Cul-de-sac no more.


At some point Friday night Yank was taken to fiber heaven, with the help of a predator. At twenty-two years old, I'd guess she was too old to run or fight. We honestly didn't think she would survive the coming winter.


For the first time since the 90's, Elaine and I are llamaless. Where do we go from here? We have decisions to make.


2023 has not been kind to our family. We've sent our share to the heavens. I'm ready for a new year.


Sign up for Part C, forget that, and buy yarn instead.


Love ya, God Bless!


Our crazy lives!


Monner

Comments


Featured Posts
Check back soon
Once posts are published, you’ll see them here.
Recent Posts
Archive
Search By Tags
No tags yet.
Follow Us
  • Facebook Basic Square
  • Twitter Basic Square
  • Google+ Basic Square
bottom of page