Pacas

Deep down inside, I'm a bleeding heart. I think, honestly, most of us are, to an extent. I know Ted is too. There's a reason his farm is such a hodge-podge of critters; from ponies kids have outgrown, to monkeys that have outlasted too many owners.

If there's one thing that makes my heart bleed, it's big eyes and an empty stomach.

Which would be how we ended up with two alpacas. Right before Christmas, dropped off at the auction, and, really, what were we supposed to do? No one else wanted them. No one else put up a half-assed bid like we did.

We have llamas because alpacas are useless... right? Glorified sheep. Twice the price and half as smart.

Someone asked me if I felt like I was "cheating" on our llamas by "harboring the enemy" and I don't. Not in the least. It's the bleeding heart in me. I may not love alpacas as much as I love my llamas, but I hate the idea of starving animals much more than I hate any breed.

It's a mother and son. She's about three or four years old, and he'll probably be one sometime this spring.

Her name is Carol. As in, "Christmas Carol," because she found a good home right before Christmas, and she just simply is a Carol. She's shy, of course, but absurdly trusting. Eats like a hoover vacuum, and has finally stopped letting the boy nurse. She is beautiful, in a snooty persian cat sort of way. Solid white fleece, clear blue eyes, and what looks like thick black eyeliner around both her eyes. If she were a teenage girl she'd be a heartbreaker.

She's not halter-broken at all. She doesn't mind me putting one on her, but has no idea what it's for. The walk from the yard into the barn the day we got them was the longest walk I think I've ever taken. She hasn't been trained for ANYTHING, and she has such a long way to go. She isn't a huge fan of coming out of her stall, and if it's anywhere near dinnertime you can find her laying down in the barn patiently waiting.

Nicholas (named after the famous Saint, of course) can't stand to be penned up. He whines constantly to get out, and buddies up to Ruby once he is. He's dwarfed by Emerald- his back is almost low enough to pass completely under Emerald's belly. He doesn't understand he's not really one of the herd yet.

He should have been sheared last summer, so his fleece is thicker than anything I've ever seen- or touched. I had to trim some of it away under his tail just so he could go to the bathroom without anything getting stuck in it. He looks so fat and chubby, but underneath the fur all you can feel is bones.

My bleeding heart just can't stand that...