Paulina is Growing

Miss Paulina with a crunchy leaf.

 Miss Paulina alpaca is growing to be a sweet girl. Now a month old, she comes up to sniff at me or be briefly petted before moving on to more serious business--generally nursing because if I am sitting still in their stall, I must have delivered fresh grain for her dam, who will then be occupied enough to allow a long suckle without complaint. Van is a good mother, always taking better care of her cria that herself, but Paulina is old enough now that she will not always stand still lengthy bouts of nursing.

This year's chick, now an adolescent.

Much older than Paulina is this year's surviving chick, who appears to be a pullet--or young hen. Yay! After the year of a multitude of surviving roosters, any young hen is to be celebrated. And since this year's crop of chicks mostly were hatched out in the barn shortly after the cats had been retrained to report there for meals, well, let's just say none of those chicks grew much.

They're never too young to learn the rules.

Indeed, when some of Kimberly hen's first-hatched brood piled out of their nest last June to explore the great world around them, I did my best to instill a sense of responsibility among some of them (see photo) as I rounded the hatchlings up. I daresay, though, I do a better job with young humans.

Paulina is ever alert to the wonders of her world.

Anyway, as we celebrate our pullet and Miss Paulina, a week of hard-freezes has given all of our herd animals fuller, fluffier coats. The alpacas and goats are enjoying the crunchy taste of autumn leaves as much as the Great Pyrenees dogs are enjoying the earthy scent as similar piles of leaves crunch beneath their bodies when they lie to sleep, watch or simply to roll in the leaves.

Fall is such a beautiful season!

Welcome Paulina Alpaca!

P&CW's Paulina

This afternoon our veteran female alpaca, Van, brought a new cria into the world. Little Paulina is a bright-eyed gentle gal, who is curious, friendly, and eager to learn her new surroundings. Since the alpaca herd has been "working" the front acres this summer, keeping the green growth mowed, Van was none-too-happy to be hauled up to a smaller enclosure attached to the barn a few nights ago; however, the weather had turned stormy and her body indicated that she was due to give birth on schedule, so we moved her to a spot of greater safety. At the time I put our littlest goat kid, Lorraine, in with her for a companion, but Paulina is the gal Van would rather spend her time with, so little Lorraine got returned to her herd today.

Crias are so much softer and meeker than kids. As a rule, alpacas are gentler than goats--except when they kick in self-defense. A strong kick from an angry alpaca beats being run down by a goat any day.

After suffering through her initial physical exam, and passing, little Paulina happily soaked up the mid-afternoon sun beside her dam and looked wide-eyed at her strange, new world. We left fresh water and feed for Van then did the new momma's bidding and left the pair alone.

Summer Coats for Shearing Day

Hamilton is ready to meet the shearer.

Our little herd of alpacas was visited by our shearer this morning. Before she arrived with her able assistant, the alpacas were gathered into a small pen close to the shearing site that was carpeted with plenty of fresh green fodder. Last year they had to wait until quite late in the season to be shorn, but once the temperatures became unseemly warm this past April I believe we've all been counting down the days to Gerdi's visit.

Van's coat rolls off smoothly as Gerdi works.

When our female alpaca, Van, came to the table, her full, soft fiber rolled off smoothly in a lush blanket.

Alpacas line up for an after-shearing scratch.

After the shearer left, the alpacas lined up to scratch their sides along the branches of a young cedar tree. Perhaps it was just my imagination, but it seemed to me that they were relieved to have been unburdened from their winter coats.

Playing with Hamilton

Getting acquainted.

Starlight's gregarious buckling, Liam, was busy making friends, or at least acquaintances, with our alpaca Hamilton this afternoon. After all, an alpaca in the "cush" position provides a suitable play surface for a newborn kid. The fiber is deep and soft. Kids can jump up and down without risk of injury. As long as an alpaca will sit still for the behavior, a kid will take advantage of the opportunity.

Hamilton's patience was short-lived.

Liam picked out Hamilton promptly when his dam brought them down to the front of the home pasture. His sibling, Harriett Ann, stuck closer to their dam, but Liam was all about having fun. I find it amusing that Hamilton, the alpaca who loves to chase anything he can get to run or fly, will sit still for the antics of a goat kid. Indeed, I think he was taken aback at first by the new kid's forward actions.

Gregs looks on as the young whippersnapper gets his comeuppance.

Shortly, though, his head snaked up in that, "I'm pissed now and am thinking about spitting," gesture that the little goat has yet to appreciate. Luckily for Liam, Hamilton kept his cool and did not spit at the little fella, but he did stand up--making it quite impossible for Liam to jump onto him again for the time being. Game over.

Alpacas Play Chase

Spencer pursues Pamela's triplets.

Watching the alpacas at play can be extremely amusing. I love how they skip and hop much like the cartoon character PePe le Pew. Our largest alpaca, Hamilton, and our smallest, Spencer, are the alpacas we see playing "Chase" most often. Luckily for them, we have ample targets at the moment; young kids are the most unsuspecting and fun.

Hamilton and Emmilye regard one another across a fence.

 The home pasture fencing is set up to allow the alpacas and female goats access to hay and pasture, and to separate stalls in the barn. At the moment, kids can flow between the pastures through a gap beneath the hay rack. Sometimes the Nubian does, Pamela and/or Leslie, squeeze through as well; although, of late only Pamela has been venturing to join the alpacas. For some reason she can get into the alpacas' pasture with ease, but relies on an opened gate to return to the goat side of the enclosure.

Adult goats will not play "Chase" with the alpacas. As such, the alpacas pay them little mind. Sure, they will share a space at a feed tub, but beyond that the adult goats are not nearly as engaging as the youngsters. Anything that will run when rushed becomes a fair playmate for a frisky alpaca. The kids will soon be chasing enough on their own, I do not feel bad for them when the alpacas use them as playmates.

Managing in the Heat

Our herd sire and dairy queen hide in the shade on a July morning.

Managing in the heat this month has been a challenge for everyone. During the heat of the day most of the animals disappear into the shade--under a building overhang, beneath a vehicle, in the cool of the woods--and only venture out late in the day.

Heat stress leaves Marcie, our dairy queen, panting heavily by mid-morning. Heat stress caused, I believe, one of our alpacas to miscarry. Although I did not find a fetus, she transitioned from clearly pregnant to clearly barren overnight. Heat stress even finds the hens panting when I encounter them about the yard.

The only creatures who appear immune to the heat are the guineas. We appear to be down to two now, but those two can be seen busily scooting about the property--crossing fields back and forth, and popping out and back over fences--with their heads down. They are always focused on their work which they take very seriously. I guess, then, we can credit them for the relative lack of ticks we have about the farm of late. It's always nice to be able to do tick checks without finding any offenders attached.

The alpacas and goats down a tub of water laced with cherry-flavored electrolytes daily. While the container stipulates that the electrolyte-water be the only source of water provided to the animals, I ignore that directive. The ruminants drink it dry daily, even though they have access to a number of automatic watering troughs around their pastures.

If only one could capture and bottle the summer's heat, to be taken out and savored midwinter. Now that would be a treat worth canning and preserving!

Shearing Day at P&CW Farm

An alpaca, tied to the shearing table, being relieved of her fleece.

The weather was so hot on shearing day that Gerdi had to travel to our farm with her helper for the alpaca shearing. I was afraid to put the animals in the small trailer and ask them to travel an hour and a half in this baking heat. We were grateful that our new shearer was able to make the trip.

Unfortunately, with the steady heat for the past few days, the alpacas' coats have been wet and much of the fleece was not even worth trying to salvage. While I should have been packing the animals with ice bags beneath their armpits, instead I ran the sprinkler. And although we have fans in the barn, it is so low and close that the alpacas have not been housed up there for some weeks.

Newly-shorn alpaca gals rest in the shade within easy reach of electrolyte-laden water.

We appreciated the work that basically saved our herd from perishing in the heat, and the bushels of good advice imparted by the shearer and her helper. Since their visit, we carefully spread out the fleeces that we chose to keep and were able to dry them in the sun before they could mildew in a bag. The alpacas were so glad to be relieved of their coats that they quickly forgave me for the indignity of the shearing experience. None was eager to be separated from the herd, then tied to a tabletop and clipped; all were smiling, though, by the time they were released from the table.

I'm beginning to think that it was unwise for us to bring alpacas to this climate. Indeed, by the time the shearers left, I was about ready to crumple in the heat myself. I cannot imagine how tough this weather is for animals better suited to cooler climes.

July is Too Hot for Coats

Alpacas stand in the sprinkler's spray to find respite from the heat.

Some days it feels as if I run and run without getting anywhere, and while this sounds very much like I might have described life before moving to the farm, the result is very different. Indeed, while I may spend afternoons shifting fences around to keep animals contained and still rotating from pasture to pasture, some larger chores have been allowed to slide--with potentially dire consequences.

As busy as I have been filling kiddie pools and running sprinklers for the alpacas, what I should have been doing was finding a shearer--and getting him or her to the farm in the Spring. Now Summer is here and our shaggy ruminants who evolved high in the cool Andes are suffering. Luckily I crossed paths with another caring alpaca farmer when I was at Edwards Feeds recently. Alarmed to hear that I had yet to engage a shearer, he gave me his wife's card and told me to call her for a referral to the woman they use. Thank you!

Now our alpacas have  an upcoming appointment with a Miss Gerdi. She sounds like a lovely woman, and the alpacas and I are eager to make the trek to her farm this weekend.

Getting Cool in the Pools

Alpaca Spencer claims a pool filled with cool well water.

The hot days of this season are much too warm for anyone who is overdressed. The livestock guardians continue to shed their winter coats in shaggy clumps, but the alpacas are not so lucky.  Unfortunately for them, I let shearing season slip by without managing to engage a shearer. (They do now have an engagement for shearing fast approaching, I am pleased to report.)

Shaggy alpacas jockey for position beside the sprinkler.

Alpaca fiber is delightfully warm in winter. These days our alpacas spend much time seeking respite in the shade and waiting for the sprinkler to be turned on at different times through the day. They can hear when the hose spurts to life and will hasten across the yard to reach the pools and sprinkler.
 
Their date with the shearer cannot come too quickly. Next year, I resolve to schedule shearing in a more timely fashion. 

Cooling Alpacas

'Paca boys crowd around the sprinkler.

This past weekend I brought home a sprinkler for the alpacas from the Farmers' Co-op. Now instead of hosing down the animals as they jocky for position--getting fairly wet and knocked-around in the process--I just set the sprinkler and turn on the water.

The animals appreciate the convenience, too. I will leave the sprinkler running until they have drifted away. I often did not have the patience to manage the hose myself for that long.



Alpaca gals enjoy standing beneath the sprinkler's falling spray.

True, filling the 'paca pools isn't quite the same, but it's do-able. If I could only figure out a way to fill the pools without them noticing, then call them to play in the water. Ha, that's an unlikely dream.
Better, I need to get on the stick and have them shorn. I missed doing it earlier in the season, and now it's getting critical to unburden them of their heavy fleece.

Grazing Patterns

The horses graze in a new enclosure while alpacas wander on as-yet-untouched grasses.

This year our front acreage is getting methodically trimmed as animals move about the space in a random assortment of ever-changing enclosures. Very soon it will all have been mowed at least once.

The horses are rough on pasture. Left too long in any one place, they will turn a pasture into close-trimmed earth, or even into a mud pit--as has happened with our recent rains.

The goats' browsing behavior is easier on a pasture overall, but they like to mow down plantings I want to keep. They have an uncanny ability to zero in on those few plants I would like them not to eat, and make the foliage--or the entire plant--disappear in short order. I need to set up something like those dog runs with overhead wires. This could make it easier to move these bigger goats to specified areas. (In past years we would tie out the little goats, anchoring them to stakes or logs or fence panels. The big goats manage to get into trouble much faster, though.)

The goats are browsing this spot for the third time already.

The alpacas are kindest to the earth. Except for the burned-out spots where they position collective toilets, the grasses and forbs recover most quickly after alpacas have grazed the area.

Ideally, we should rotate the different animals through various pastures, but with the different fencing requirements of each type of animal this can be labor intensive. While horses are easily contained with a few strands of electric fence, the alpacas would not feel a shock through their thick coats of fiber. Both horses are alpacas respond well to the five-foot tube panels, but the goats slip past these quite easily. The goats do best behind tight woven-wire fence or cattle panels reinforced by adequate t-posts. For the most part, time and energy dictate which animals go where when.

Put Those Boys Away!

The alpaca boys drifted into an enclosure before it was finished.

Although most of our animals are pastured in spots around the greenest, grassiest areas, we do tend to let groups loose to roam--enclosed by the perimeter fence, of course. Generally animals are loosed to roam when we need to move their pasture area, and often while the moving of various tube panels and/or cattle panels is in progress. Sometimes the wanderers are on their best behavior: grazing or browsing intently, without evidence of a need for mischief.

When the horses are loosed to roam, their version of mischief involves standing on the driveway, blocking traffic and leaving presents that simply will not fertilize the pavement. They are known to cluster along the neighbor's fence line when she's out in her yard. (Feed them once, and they will long remember.) Luckily, so far this year their mischief has not spread to the areas where grain is stored. (In years past Millie has been known to pound cans until they open and spill their contents of grain. The cans often don't recover. Given enough grain, the horses could be at risk, too.)

When the goats roam free, they can be perfect darlings--browsing down weeds and poison ivy. Or, they can make a bee-line for our few ornamental plantings. Day lilies, iris, roses (they love roses), forsythia, or other plants can rapidly be mowed down by hungry goats. Plus, Marcie likes to imitate Millie and wrench feed cans open for all to gorge.

When the alpacas roam free, especially the males, they often seek out mischief by chasing other animals. Cats, chickens, goats--it doesn't matter, so long as those being chased have the decency to play along by running or flying. Unlike pursuit by dogs--that may start as a game but evolve into a hunt--pursuit by alpacas seems notably tame; however, those being pursued by the long-legged, long-necked bouncing fuzzballs don't seem inclined to stop and ponder their relative safety. No, they run in terror, while fuzzy alpacas skip and bounce along in their wake.

When they've had enough time to roam, the goats generally flock to the gate leading up to the barn or into a pasture, while the alpacas often drift into their new enclosures. (The horses are content to roam continuously.) The photo, above, illustrates an afternoon when the alpaca boys understood where their pen was headed but the lazy humans had yet to complete the task, and the alpacas--ready to be re-pastured--gathered "inside" their three-sided "enclosure" loudly hinting their desire to be penned back into relative safety. When their intent was so clear, we had no choice but get out there and finish the job.

Hamilton Explores

Hamilton reaches beneath the fence to graze.

As the alpaca males trim away the fodder in their pasture, they've begun to look out beyond their fence. Although with the tube panels I am able to restructure their enclosure fairly readily, I don't always move fast enough to please "the boys." Hamilton serves as the herd barometer, because he's the first to stretch his neck past the fence line. So far he is the only alpaca to leave the pasture of his own accord. When I come home or look out of the porch and see Hamilton reaching beyond the fence, I know the time is nigh to reconfigure the pasture.

Recently Hamilton sent me word to move the fence, but I did not heed his warning. The next time I looked his way, Hamilton was out front grazing on the lawn. Since the perimeter fencing is good, I left him to graze for the day. I knew he would return at feeding time, if not before.

Hamilton enjoys greener pastures.

By afternoon he had moved from the greenest area and had ventured uphill where he could check out the action. There he could browse at will while looking over at the female alpacas and the goats. I imagined that he enjoyed his time abroad. Before feeding time, I moved fence panels to give the boys a chance to reach some new green patches. Hamilton returned when I opened the gate, wandering in just in time for dinner.

Musical Chairs?

"Ol' Ms. Winfield, has a farm, e-i-e-i-o. And on this farm she has a goat whose name is Harry, not Joe."

Harry and Hugh exchange greetings.

Harry  has pals with him tonight. Finally. Hugh Jackman was my first choice for pairing with Harry because the two are well-matched in size and appearance, but Brad Pitt wasn't about to let Hugh go off on an adventure alone, so he got in on the act.

A quick study, Brad saw when I lifted Hugh out of the buck pen that it would not be hard for him to exit the same way. After all, the residue of uneaten hay had accumulated along the lower fence enough that he could reach across its top. One hop and the little dickens was over and out. I left him to wander while I got the smaller goats together.

Harry and Hugh getting acquainted.

Hugh and Harry hit it off immediately. Their similarities make them an attractive pair together, and I would almost swear that their similar size cemented the friendship. Under the trailer, they bumped heads but without the rearing and ramming normally associated with goat play. Even when one of them did rear back and posture, the meeting of heads was always gentle and friendly.

Brad was easy to move because he is taller than Hugh, and his broad horns make super handles. He and I actually traveled nicely together--he with four hooves on the ground and holding my hands around his horns. Once inside the under-the-trailer enclosure, Brad glanced over at the two black-and-white goat boys, then focused on the serious business at hand: eating hay.

Alpacas check out their surroundings.

My evening was not finished, though, as more moves were slated. Romeo and Hamilton, two of our male alpacas, were chosen to move on up to the greener pasture. Although Hamilton was wary of being haltered, both males traveled well on the lead. The three of us ambled together through the fallen leaves, down past the penned-up roosters and the house, and entered their new pasture at its front gate. I made them circle the perimeter with me, and locate the automatic waterer, before letting them loose to enjoy their new digs. Far better than the dry lot where they have been staying, this pasture has a smattering of green grass left, and bountiful quantities of new-fallen leaves.

The equine Welcome Wagon: mares and filly approach to meet their new alpaca neighbors.

The horses were curious about their new neighbors and ambled through the woods to check out the action. Before all of the greetings could take place, I left the four-legged animals to their own devices. I had chickens to gather.

A few weeks back I purchased a two-piece already-assembled hen house. Since then I stained it to protect the wood and installed a four-foot fence much of the way around it, finishing the loop with two three-foot pig panels. Now I'm encouraging the hens to settle there at night. Eventually, they will remain in an enclosed yard throughout the days, too--we're none too thrilled to be losing hens to the dogs, especially now that Biscuit has told his pals that freshly-killed chicken is indescribably tasty.

Hens beside the new hen house.

I was able to gather two hens tonight, in addition to the one who stayed of the pair I had "settled" there yesterday. Chickens, even those who know you're after them, are easy prey once the sun goes down. They sat on my lap to have their wings clipped, then traveled together without incident to the new spot. I will be curious to see how many are still in place behind the fence when I come out in the morning. As they frequently roost atop four-foot tall fence panels, the fence is actually there to merely encourage them to stay, and to deter the dogs.

By the time I was done this evening and ready to come in the house, my head was spinning with the game of musical pastures we had just played and a version of "Old MacDonald has a Farm" was formulating itself on my tongue. Luckily for those within earshot, I am easily distracted, and did not pursue the song after I got into the house.

So Cool in the Pool

The kiddie pools have proven to be a hit with the alpacas. The gals--Goldie and Van--trot right over to their pool every time they hear the hose start spurting water. So far little Lili has yet to climb into the pool, but she has taken to sidling close, taking a squirt, then lying in the cool mud about her feet.

The boys are less predictable. Perhaps because all five of them share one pool they share less and challenge one another more. It seems that only one will settle into the cool water on these hot days. Although the others may step in to be hosed down, more often than not they will collect about the edge of the pool and jockey for position without going so far as to climb in and luxuriate in the cool water. [In the photo, Spencer has claimed the pool for himself, as three other boys debate each other around the pool's edge.]

Silly boys. They're missing out.

Dere's a 'Paca in da Pool!

Keeping cool in summer is a challenge. I come indoors at day's end with clothing that can literally be wrung out. It must be far worse for the heavily-fleeced alpacas, animals bred and raised high in the cool reaches of the Andes mountains. Sure, we took them for shearing in April, but still they droop in the hot, humid air.

The kiddie pools have been in the alpaca pastures for a couple of weeks now and only Goldie Rose (shown) and Hamilton have taken to lying in them. Van, our other adult female, will step into the pool to be hosed down but won't snuggle into the cool wetness pooling about her feet. (For those who wonder, all that muddy water visible in the pool came directly from Goldie's knees and legs. Her light coat not only shows the dirt better, it seems to hold an inordinate amount of the stuff when compared to the other alpacas.)

Of the males, usually Gregs or Shaun like to lie in the mud when the hose is on, but neither has taken to the pool. So far only Hamilton, the black unintact male, has become eager to clamber into the pool when he sees the hose coming, then to cush (that's the word for the way camelids settle themselves down atop their folded legs). He looks quite pleased when he gets the pool to himself without any competition.

Although LaLa, the female goose who has been staying in the pastures with the camelids, will eye the water (as she's doing in the photo with Goldie), so far she has not tried chasing an alpaca out of the pool. Later on the floating feathers will speak of her having had playtime, but I'm glad such time is not at the alpacas' expense.

Worthy of note: LaLa has abandoned the three eggs in her nest. I've not seen her setting atop them for many days; however, she has also made no attempt to hop the fence to join JoJo--the gander who's lording it over the fowl down by the house. The pair drifts to one another along the fence, but seem quite content to remain separated by the sagging woven wire of the old home-pasture fence.

Shearing the Boys

This morning the alpaca males crowded into our little two-horse trailer for their 2010 adventure in shearing. The ride was uneventful, although they were certainly glad to be loosed into the lush pasture at Long Hollow Suri Alpacas. Even better than the abundant green grass, they quickly discovered the resident female alpacas. Or, should I say that the gals discovered them? At various points throughout the morning, the boys could be found taking a break from their grazing to actively ogle the girls.

In the shearing barn the work again progressed quickly and efficiently. Most of the boys behaved, but MacGregor came in spitting and swearing and had to wear a spit cloth over his face for the duration of his shearing. Of course, he seemed to understand the purpose of the cloth and stopped spitting immediately. (After spitting, the alpacas may stand around with their mouths open for several minutes, airing out the foul stench.)

At day's end, the boys enjoyed the same cool comfort for which they had envied the girls only yesterday.

Shearing Day

This weekend, April 10 and 11, Jan and Carl Heinrich of Long Hollow Suri Alpacas are hosting a shearing opportunity at their Gallatin, Tennessee, farm with Bill Watkins of Frostglen--a highly-skilled shearer and shearing teacher with over 20 years experience. This morning we got the two-horse trailer hooked up, then I was left to halter and load the alpaca gals myself. This was no mean trick because they loathe being caught and they're pastured in the maternity area of the home pasture along with all of our 2010 goat mommas and their kids. Although I brought out a scoop of grain with which to tempt the alpacas, I "caught" many more goats that I wanted. When it comes to food, goats are anything but shy. Eventually I got smart enough to let the goats out to roam the woods, after which haltering the alpacas was less troublesome.

We trundled down to the trailer in the front yard. With four leads in hand, I had four alpacas meandering along behind me. Miss Goldie Rose was the leader. Not only did she allow me to slip a halter on her early on, she also climbed right into the trailer without a fuss and then wanted to come out again. Having never loaded alpacas for transport before, I was unsure of whether to tie them as one would a horse, or leave their heads free; I tied them to be on the safe side. Quickly realizing that I would not successfully load the rest without a helping hand (with the trailer parked on an incline, one of the doors needed to be held open), and so I pulled out my phone to pester our amazingly-good-natured neighbor Theresa. I am hopeless at planning for a schedule and so call for assistance at a moment's notice, and if she's home Theresa comes to my aid every time (or sends Tony in her stead). With Theresa's help, the animals were loaded and ready to go quickly.

Shearing at Long Hollow Suri Alpacas was a not-to-be-missed experience. With a team of experienced handlers working, each animal was processed quickly and efficiently with very little emotional stress. While waiting their turn, the alpacas grazed quietly together in the pen provided. Busily feasting on the lush grass and thick clover, they had little opportunity to miss the mud-lot from which they had come or to fret about their impending fate in the nearby barn.

Having had Bill Watkins shear my alpacas, I fear I may have been spoiled for other shearers I may meet in the future. When removing the main blanket of fleece, he used long, smooth strokes that caused the blanket to roll off each animal like waves in a velvet ocean. Although I tried to capture the magic with a camera, I am quite sure that the magical aspect of the experience will not translate into two dimensions. The finished blanket was bundled into a clear plastic bag and marked; this was the first-quality fiber, called the firsts. Trimmings from the rest of the animal were sorted and placed into sacks labeled for seconds and thirds. This last category has enough of the stiff guard hairs as to make it unusable for clothing or yarn, but it can be used to stuff pillows or mattresses, and perhaps I'll find time to try my hand at needle felting using the thirds. Before leaving the barn, each alpaca had her toenails trimmed, her teeth inspected (Van's were trimmed), and her topknot styled. Since Goldie had been looking rough for some time now, with her topknot a tangled mass of dirty fiber, her transformation was the most striking. Each girl, though, has a very cute look about her now that her body and face are again visible to the world. 

When we left for home, the bed of the truck carried a small mountain of bags filled with fiber--and the alpaca girls were vastly lighter than they'd been when they arrived. I was gratified to see, as the fleeces rolled off of them, that their body condition is good and the girls are neither too thin nor too heavy. They, I'm sure, were gratified to be free of that warm bulk because the days have begun to reach into the 80's with regularity, and alpacas are mountain animals, well-suited to much cooler temperatures.

At day's end, the still-fleecey 'paca males could be seen watching the newly-shorn gals. Tomorrow we'll repeat the process, this time carting the male alpacas off to Gallatin.

Full of Fleece

We've had several warm days of late and the alpacas are beginning to rush me whenever I appear with the hose to fill water tubs; however, in the interest of not messing up their fiber (which is well ornamented with plant matter already), I'm making them wait until after shearing--this weekend. In the meantime, I've tried to capture photos of the gals in full fleece. They're puffy, rounded, and very full.

Lili and Judith, our crias, have almost rounded faces in contrast to the adults whose fluff does not encroach over their cheeks.

The alpacas are so pillowy soft at this time of year that I caught the little Nubian buckling Samuel trying to use Shaun as a pillow one afternoon when Samuel was very tired after a busy day.

The Kids' Playground

Watching our seven kids frolic and play, for however long I pause in the course of a day, brings a joyous satisfaction to my soul. As with children, everyone is a friend with whom to be played—no matter their age or species. Fearless Mary often leads the way; indeed, she was the first kid I saw using the Livestock Guardian Luther as a furry goat mountain. (Goats are forever playing king of the mountain. They naturally gravitate to the tallest point available.) Although all of the animals bring me joy, it's the abandon with which the younguns play that makes their antics special.

This morning as I was tossing scratch grain out for the chickens, I looked up into the home pasture and saw the youngest kids hard at play. Their playground of choice included the alpaca moms and crias: cushed, camel-shaped objects well-suited for climbing on, jumping off, racing around, and playing chase over and among. By the time the top photo was taken, Miss Judith had decided that she was no kid's toy and had risen in preparation to leave. Although the other camelids have their ears back, at this point they were still tolerating the little goats' antics.

I know a bit of what they were feeling because Miss Mary has taken to using my back and shoulders for a trampoline anytime I stoop over in the stall where she sleeps. Feeling her jumping onto me, scampering over me, and launching herself off only to turn around and return is entertaining--until she slips a cold, muddy hoof inside my collar and leaves tracks across my neck.

The second photo, taken soon after the first, shows both Goldie Rose and her cria Lili Grayclouds preparing to spit in protest to the kids' attentions. It was too bad for them that a little spit wouldn't phase these youngsters. Now nearly two weeks old Tony, Todd, Ted, and Theresa have the childlike ability of being able to focus on their games while remaining oblivious to any adult discomfort with regard to their behavior.

Eventually three of the alpacas moved on, leaving the older, perhaps more patient Van to entertain the kids. I was sorry that I, too, had to move on--but glad to have had my camera handy to capture a bit of the fun.

Chanted with a slight Boston accent, I imagine the kids playing a goat version of Ring Around the Rosie. "Ring around the alpacas, No pockets full of crackers, Fiber Fiber, Let's jump on 'em again!"