Discovering Alpacas Part 2
A rental utility van with a rubber floor (from a company I won’t disclose in case for some reason we were NOT supposed to use their vehicle for this purpose) ended up being the best option we could find. It helped a LOT that when I went to pick it up the person behind the desk apologized for the smell in the van, “We think the last folks used it to move farm equipment of some kind and it smells a bit like a barn.” I left smiling, waving, and yelling back, “No problem!” I giggled when I explained to Hugo that they were worried I would be upset about the smell of barn in the van, “Perfect!” he exclaimed as we headed out to get our new livestock.
A similar vehicle. . .
When we got out to the alpaca ranch the boys were ready to load, trusting their wonderful owner who raised them from birth they were easy to harness and followed her right into the van. As we pulled away they began to hum earnest questions, looking out the windows and stumbling around a bit. I had tears in my eyes realizing they were crying for their mom, family, and herd community. They were clearly confused and scared as we drove them away from the only home they had ever known.
The doubt rose hard and fast in my throat. What was I thinking?
As I drove the van with these three large animals I could see the shocked expressions of passengers in passing cars as they caught glimpses of alpacas in our windows and I thought, “Yeah good question stranger, WHAT THE HECK is going on in that van??” I was feeling wobbly. Hugo stayed strong and steady, supportive, and encouraging.
When we pulled into the driveway the neighbors started to drift over to see what was going on. I was sharp and cold with my request that everyone allow us some space to unload and handle the situation. My anxiety was up and coming out as anger and frustration. My fear hardened. We re-harnessed the animals and guided them down a makeshift staircase of hay bales and around the side of the house to their new home. We had fresh food and water waiting.
William Wallace (Will), Maximus Decimus Meridius (Max), and John McClane. Big tough names for the fluffiest floofy floofs.
The last one out of the van, who would later be named William Wallace, had a misstep on the bails and ended up stranded with his belly on the top bail and his feet dangling just above the ground. He was stuck. He froze in fear and other than issuing small whines of discomfort refused to move or acknowledge my coaxing directions forward. On the verge of tears, I begged him to move. I didn’t want to pull too hard on his harness. I was worried I had broken his trust, and it turns out William and I would work for years to rebuild his willingness to follow my lead. Hugo came to our rescue by bringing one of the other animals back to and help encourage William to decide to move again.
Hugo bonding with John, just minutes after we got them settled in their new home.
By the time I finally got home from returning the van and sat down with Hugo in the back yard to eat tacos I had picked up and watch the animals I broke into sobs. I could tell by the look on his face this wasn’t something he had expected, but he could handle it. Through my sobs, trying to catch my breath, I explained to him that my body needed to release the stress. That I was happy and relieved and tired and just needed to cry. The alpacas ate their hay, Hugo ate his tacos, I calmed down and smiled, “We did it! They are here!” I finally relaxed enough to eat, and immediately felt better. (This pattern of mine, not eating in times of stress, and that worsening my stress, has led to a learned response where Hugo gently reminds me to eat. It has changed my world. Blood sugar matters. Thank goodness Hugo is so kind and gentle.)
That night I hardly slept. I kept thinking the animals might die in the night. I imagined every possible scenario of their demise. I got out of bed to peek out of the window innumerable times, peering out into the dark to count the alpacas.
Good morning!!
When the sun rose the next day, and we went to greet them at the gate with joy and excitement that we had made it through the first night it finally became real. And the neighbors started to come over to visit.
