Saturday the vet came out to take blood from my llama, Wrigley, to test for pregnancy. Wrigley had never been haltered and had seldom been handled when I bought her. Being larger and more powerful than the alpacas, I knew she would be a challenge and she certainly didn’t disappoint me. If only I had taken bets.
First, while we were working with one of the alpacas who was also getting tested, Wrigley jumped, flat-footed, over a 5′ cattle panel to get out of the holding pen and away from us! We managed to get the frightened animal back into the holding pen fairly quickly, but good grief, a 5’ panel! All of my fences are 5’ tall! It was clear to me then, that she was only choosing to stay with me. If I ever made her mad enough, she could easily jump the fence and run away from home like a petulant 8-year-old!
I couldn’t linger on that thought for long, though. We still had work to do.
Now that Wrigley was back in the pen, the next step was to keep her from making like Rudolf and taking flight again. So, here I was holding her around her shoulders and neck, speaking softly to her and doing all I could to keep all 300 plus pounds of her muscular body grounded and still. I prayed for God to turn me into a heavy-weight champion body builder for just a few minutes, but God decided I was more fit to be a bronc rider instead.
Next thing I knew, Wrigley was bucking like a wild stallion with me clinging desperately to her side. I’m pretty sure I stayed on her for the necessary 8 seconds and, by rights, should be getting a championship belt buckle for completing such an admirable ride. But in spite of my heroic efforts, the vet still couldn’t get the blood sample.
Well, it just so happened that I had one tour guest show up that day. I had meant to take the tour for that day off the schedule since the vet was coming, but just totally forgot. That turned out to be a blessing.
Laurie, a woman about my own age, stood outside the holding pen watching the rodeo. She offered her help a couple of times, but the vet waved her off saying that he didn’t want her to get hurt. Of course, neither did I. However, after Wrigley slammed me into the barn and gate several times, he looked at Laurie and asked her if she still wanted to help.
Without hesitation, this woman, who had already seen how strong and agile Wrigley was, entered the holding pen without fear and pressed Wrigley’s hips against the barn wall firmly, but gently. Suddenly, I felt Wrigley relax and the vet was able to get the job done in a matter of seconds.
It seemed that Wrigley had finally realized she wasn’t going anywhere… either that, or Laurie is a llama whisperer in disguise. I’m betting on the latter. Either way, I was pretty darned impressed with my accidental tourist that day.
Thank you Laurie!