We came along a plan to get three alpacas to graze and grow wool and be cute on our land. One requirement of the alpaca deal was that we employ a guard llama to protect the alpacas from all manner of threat. It was the first I’d ever heard or thought about llamas being a kind of furry, long-lipped security detail.
So, then we ran across a llama named Luigi who was able to fit the bill. Tall, pale, and handsome, Luigi grace our pen and acreage with his aloof presence. Two weeks later, Zoro, Keno, and Surveyor arrived: the Alpacas from town.
Their initial meeting with their new protector, Luigi, left the Alpacas feeling randy. Perhaps the mounting and circling was entirely non-sexual in nature and all about dominance. Either way, it was pretty raunchy – and noisy. I never knew that Alpacas were desperately noisy when provoked and make a sound that is reminiscent of both a whale and Chewbaca. It’s an amplified chirping with aquatic mammal resonance and intonation.
Mesmerized by the other-worldly display of intimate llama-alpaca weirdness, I must have leaned in a bit too close for comfort. I was slapped out of my daze by stinking meteor of slime that thwacked into my wide open eye. When someone tells you that llamas spit, know that “spit” is a grossly misleading euphemism for internal sewer sediment ball. Spit would be a pleasure after receiving the full horror of Alpaca lugeys.
That’s the other thing … the llama has never spit at me. It’s the cute alpacas that do the hocking.
Malodorous and unsavory as it is, I’ll take the end-rage Alpaca defense over the potentially bone breaking protective instinct of many other large land mammals. Like hard hooves or slicing claws or deep puncturing tooth bites.
Plus, Alpacas have great bangs. I’m not sure how they see anything but they sure look good.
Next…. it’s time for a bunch of rookies to shear the alpacas…