Discovering Alpacas: Part 1
Maximus Decimus Meridius
As a product of the Waldorf Schools I have loved knitting, crochet, and needle work since the 6th grade. In my early 30’s I found myself living in Santa Fe, in the middle of town, holding a half-knit sweater and looking at a half-embroidered pillowcase looking at videos of fleece spinning and contemplating learning yet another a new craft. When I heard that some of my neighbors had goats, I started to daydream about having sheep in the back yard. In my daydream I would learn how to sheer them, process their fleeces, and spin it into yarn. The goats bellowing from the neighbor’s yard opened the door.
My beloved partner Hugo grew up in Southeastern New Mexico with sheep, goats, horses, and cows playing roles in his daily life. He encouraged me, as he always does about everything, and asked kind gentle guiding questions about my plan. He knew that having a handful of sheep in my backyard in the middle of town might not be the best idea, but he is so loving that he never said a single thing to discourage me. Instead, he got me tiny goat statues to put on my desk at work, and a beautiful goat and sheep calendar with philosophical quotes. I later framed my favorites and decorated our home with them.
Over the next few weeks, I would scan livestock sales and send Hugo pictures of goats and sheep I wanted in my backyard. We discussed fencing and predator protection and planning for the inevitable sheep escape into the neighborhood. Then, one day I opened a Craigslist link Hugo sent me and discovered ALPACAS.
It was love at first sight. These animals clearly embodied my values. Soft, approachable, low maintenance, and without pretension. They are community focused to a fault, and when they can’t control their anger or frustration, they don’t hesitate to express themselves. While I don’t spit at people, I do tend to express myself at times spewing my ideals in a way that makes people back off just as quickly. Alpacas communicate primarily in the form of hummed questions. I saw them immediately as the perfect farm-y addition for someone like me, a social worker trained in forms of inquiry who asks endless questions of all my animals. I knew I was going to want alpacas to be a part of the dream I had been building for the last decade.
When I went to meet my first alpacas in-person they were softer than I had imagined, sweeter than I could have dreamed, sillier than a kindergarten class during recess, and beyond enchanting. This is Blue Mesa Alpacas, a local alpaca ranch outside of Santa Fe. The ranch I visited has since moved, but the folks at Blue Mesa are lovely supportive ranchers and friends.
I called Hugo before I had even left the driveway to tell him I wanted not one but THREE alpacas. “It turns out you can’t have only one babe,” I rambled, “They have to have a herd or they get so lonely they stop eating and die so we have to have at LEAST 3 of them.” To me this is one of the more endearing qualities of alpacas. Hugo didn’t hesitate in responding with support, “Ok! I can’t wait to see them!”
Hugo showed up to see the animals I wanted and then set to work building fences. He helped me identify local sources for food and supplies, including hay delivery since my hatchback would only hold a bale at a time. He continued to help and lovingly guide my endeavor. We set up a home for 3, male, yearling alpacas and chose a date to pick them up.
Eating out of Hugo’s hands, just minutes after arriving.
The only problem was I don’t have a livestock trailer. Neither did anyone I knew in Santa Fe, and the one of the right size in Roswell wasn’t really in shape to make the 6 hour round trip drive.
We were going to have to get creative about how to get these furry bundles home. . .
