Seems like every time I share a story from our lives, I got a kid who sees it differently and says frankly ” I don’t know what she was doing but that is not what happened”. I would just like to say that although we may not have the same perspective, I try very hard not to make stuff up. I just share things from my perspective. I realize that sometimes it might be twisted a bit, but in all fairness, I live in a cactus field with teenagers, with llamas and donkeys and geese, with wild animals and a crazy man…it’s all a little bit twisted.
Recently, I was handed my behind by a llama. I have been working with this little llama named Abendnigo- Bendi for short- for weeks. All I wanted in the beginning was for her to be tame enough to shear. I love the wool. But after a while it became about something else. I love the dang animals. We have three. I love being with them. I love the sweet hum they make and the gentleness of them when they feel safe. I love building trust with them and getting to know their personalities. I really began to enjoy the exercise, the fresh air and the feeling of accomplishment that comes from taking one more step in taming this beast. Ok… they are like big jack rabbits, but for a girl who spent half her life in 3 inch heels… they are sorta beastly.
So here is what I am trying to do: 1) get them used to being on a halter and lead rope 2) desensitize them to human touch 3) get them ready to be sheared 4) condition the wool for shearing in the spring 5) make them love me.
That is all I want.
I asked for help with two things:1. Putting the halter on the mama and a suggestion on how to get the debris out of her wool. A SUGGESTION!
Ok. Now I feel like I work hard with these critters. I mean It’s not the rest of the family out walking that baby llama a mile in the wind and cold most of the time but the only picture anyone takes is this one… Jack hollering out orders while desperately holding this mighty llama and I am texting about said adventure while holding onto the very halter he was trying to order me around about. Gees.. Chill out. I’m coming.
The next order of business was to walk them… check…..then brush them. Cowboy is an engineer. His brain goes straight to mechanicing, to getting the job done. I was brushing a pony while he disappeared with said llamas. There was a strange noise, like a scream of a banshi, and like a hypnotized child I followed the sound. I will never learn.
The sound was a leaf blower. YEP! A leaf blower. Without even consulting me, he took a leaf blower to my precious beast and got just about all the junk out of her wool. But at a price.
AND that is how stories get twisted and rumors start. I just hope I can get to the children’s pastor at church before the bruises heal. Otherwise my ten-year old will probably tell him the reason I was on the ground was because I was napping or meditating or digging for worms.