Yesterday I wrote about Sam, our male llama, leaving the farm to go to a petting zoo. I said,
“So this morning a couple of guys came with a trailer, and we got Sam corraled, haltered, and down to the trailer. (That sentence was lot easier and quicker to write than the actual doing of the deed, believe me!)”
That was one of those “understatements.” But I didn’t write about it extensively yesterday being tired and needing to get to other work. However, I DID write about it last night in an email to a friend.
So as Paul Harvey would say, here’s “The Rest of the Story,” being lifted from the email I sent my friend.
“I got the humor email done, fixed eggs for breakfast, and stuff in a lunch box when the guy was calling to say he was almost here and double-checking directions. I guess I wasn’t clear enough, because he still ended up going to xxxx ROAD instead of our house on xxxx LANE.
I told him how to turn in the right direction, and he finally got here. That’s when the real fun began. (That was sarcasm in case you’re wondering.)
First, he couldn’t get his truck and trailer through the gate and into the back yard and on into the llama pen so it would be close to Sam’s pen. I don’t know if his vehicle really was that much wider than our truck that we CAN get through there, but at any rate, he couldn’t do it.
That meant we had to walk Sam down from the pasture to the trailer in the driveway. This is a llama that just stays in the field, never wears a halter, and is certainly not trained to walk on lead. And the shortest distance was to take him out of the little lot that is behind the sheep shed, straight down through the main pasture, back yard and into the driveway. Sounds easy enough, right? Ha! And again I say, HA!
To walk him so far, he needed a halter. Who do you suppose had to put the halter on him? Oh, you guessed that did you? Yes, after telling this guy I have a back condition and he needed to bring someone to assist him in loading Sam because I couldn’t help… I helped. A LOT.
Sam went up to the furthest little corner of that pen, close to the orchard. As in about the furthest point he could get in the field away from where the trailer was in the driveway. Figures!
Anyway, I got the halter on him and was holding him while the guy brought the lead rope. Sam was stomping his front feet and I told him to stop smacking my legs with his, and the guy said, “He’s not fussing with you, he’s standing in an ant hill.” OH NO!!!
Oh, YES, we were both standing in a fire ant hill. I got several bites on my ankles. they hurt like the dickens earlier today but are okay now. Of course, having been through this before, I know that I’m not necessarily home free on that. Sometimes they come back, so to speak, and swell up even bigger a day or two later. But maybe I’ll get lucky. (today’s note: I didn’t… the bites are red and swollen today… I seem to have a bit of an allergy or sensitivity or whatever to ant bites.)
Well, anyway, we got the lead rope attached to the halter, backed out of the ant hill and started down the pasture with Sam. He wasn’t happy about it and balking. Have you ever tried to move a big male llama that has planted his feet and does NOT want to go?
So I got the idea to run down and get a little piece of PVC pipe The Farmer had that he used some times to help herd animals. While I was doing that, they got Sam further down the pasture, and get this… that guy who will be Sam’s new owner walked back and got my camera and lead ropes I had hung on a fence post, so I wouldn’t have to walk back and get them.
Wow! I told The Farmer this evening that “my own husband wouldn’t have done that.” He agreed, and said my husband probably would have just reminded me I left them there, and don’t leave that expensive camera behind! Ha!
Which just goes to prove that not all Southern Gentlemen wear a suit and a tie, but some wear jeans and a tee shirt! From talking to him on the phone, and meeting him today… I feel really good about where Sam is going. I think he is going to be with good people.
At any rate, it took us close to two hours to accomplish all this from the time they got here to the time we finally got the llama loaded in the trailer. He balked at every gate.
We got him as far as the driveway. I had to stand and hold him quite a while there while the guy turned his truck and trailer around, because he had pulled in and there was such a narrow passage between the storage pod in the driveway and his truck and trailer, we all agreed we’d never get Sam through there the way he was not wanting to go through gates. But of course this was a 4-horse trailer and the guy had quite a time backing out of our driveway and trying to get it turned around.
But at long last he did, and then we had to get Sam in the trailer. That was fun! (That’s sarcasm again, just so ya know.) The guy holding the lead rope we attached to the halter walked in the trailer ahead of Sam.
I had the rope we tied around Sam’s neck as an extra precaution and stood alongside the trailer with the rope threaded through a window and getting leverage on the metal post to keep him from backing out.
The second guy was pushing on Sam’s butt, trying to push him up and into the trailer.
And Sam? He had planted his front feet like a … donkey, and didn’t want to budge!
However, we finally eased him up to the trailer, and he stepped in. Once he got his front feet in there, we worked fast to push him the rest of the way in and shut the trailer gate.
It took us a while, but we finally made it!”
And that, my friends, is the rest of the story.