I am continually amazed with the depths of intelligence, care, recognition and understanding of alpacas and llamas. Your questions as well as my personal experiences have brought some particularly interesting situations. I will be sharing these with you in this newsletter as well as future ones.

It came to my attention recently that a female llama born here on our farm 14 years ago and sold as a yearling, had fallen into hard times. The story was that her 2 nd owner had committed suicide a year or more ago. The llamas simply remained on the property. The property was subsequently rented to folks who had "no clue" about llamas. As such, they received no specific care and were fed bales of straw. In time, the area Humane Society was contacted, intervened and moved the llamas to their holding facility.

I became aware of the situation and as the original breeder, I felt strongly that I had a responsibility to step up and bring Meza, the female, back home. I did, however, have concerns. We have not bred any of our girls in nearly a decade. My focus is on education and my clinics and presentations take a great deal of time. As a result, the girls have "closed" their herd. There are no llamas coming and going for breeding. No babies have been born, no one has been sold and no new animals have been purchased. The girls are older now and have a very set routine. They have long established specific stations and have not been very accepting of any visiting llamas placed in their domain. This was a cause for concern. It is not unusual these days for a single llama placed in a "closed" herd to suffer. They are shooed away, kept from feed bins, isolated. they are treated as a total outsider who simply does not belong to this specific group.

In this instance, however, there was a twist in the story. Meza had been born here. Three girls still in the herd were born here that same year. All four had spent a year together playing in our fields. Would they remember. would they recognize one another? Could that variable change what would otherwise likely be a difficult situation?

Meza was led out of the trailer and around the house to a side yard. The boys came running to the fence - snorting with tails swishing. Meza was interested until the girl's area caught her eye. The entire herd was lined side by side along the fence. As we approached, their behavior seemed a bit different. There were no ears back, no snorting, no tail swishing. no high-pitched hums. We entered the pasture and removed Meza's halter and lead. There was no crowding around. Everyone stood back and basically stared at her. In short order, one of the older girls who would know Meza walked directly up to her. They stood nose to nose looking directly at one another. A bit of time passed and no one else approached. Then. Meza turned and headed out to the far pastures. No one followed. She walked all the fence lines finally settling down on a small knoll where she and her mother used to hang out. where her mother died and is buried. By morning light, all the girls were out grazing together - including Meza.

While it had been 13 years, there is no doubt that the girls here remembered Meza. It is equally clear that Meza remembered our farm. She has been back home now for several months and it is as though she had never left.

Lots of people talk to animals.... Not very many listen, though.... That's the problem.

Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh

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