KER-POW.....A thump sounded throughout the barn! Sounds like something slammed into the side of the barn, right about here, I thought, as I walked to the door of the tack room and peeked out into the paddock! About three feet from the door stood a shaggy brown llama, shaking her head and making a nervous humming sort of a noise. It was Cocoa and it looked like she had run slap into the side of the barn again! This was the third time in about a week and I was really starting to get nervous.

Cocoa was, hands down, the oldest llama on the farm. Although no one knew how old she was for sure, she was getting on up there! I'd been noticing for a while that she seemed to be running into things a whole lot. Now, llamas are famous for being agile and sure-footed and Cocoa sure wasn't being either right now. I'd call the vet in the morning and have her come take a look.. I noticed as I caught Cocoa up to put her in a stall that her eyes seemed to have a whitish glaze over them. I'd seen it before, in the last little while but I just hadn't paid much attention.

The vet came the next morning and after an eye exam, done with a tiny flashlight she told me that Cocoa had cataracts. She felt sure that they were from old age, not disease and we discussed removing them. We decided to wait and see if she wouldn't get used to them. It would be a complicated procedure and we couldn't be sure how successful it would be. She still had some sight, but not much! By the time the month was out Cocoa had adapted so well that I decided to do nothing. As long as she was on familiar turf all would be well. Everything seemed to be going fine, then I decided to move with my herd to a new place..... But wait, I guess I'd better begin at the beginning................ I've done things backwards most of my life.

I'd never really identified with or even been around llamas when I made the decision to have llamas in my life. Perhaps my thinking was a bit convoluted, but I sure love where it's gotten me. During mid-life I suddenly came into a bit of money. This allowed me to fulfill a lifelong dream to move to the country. Along with that dream was the one about raising animals. Other than a vague picture of an idyllic country life surrounded by loving critters, I'd not fine-tuned my dream to the point of deciding what kind of animals I wanted in my fantasy. When I was suddenly presented with the opportunity to live my vision I had to start dealing with fine tuning my vision. Deciding just what I did want and how to go about making it happen.

It only took me a little while to find the home of my dreams. An enormous South Carolina Colonial sitting directly in the middle of forty-seven acres of pristine farm land and chain link fenced from the rest of the world. With a stream and four or five acres of woodland at the back of the property I was thrilled. Not only was it beautiful but it had a big, lovely barn. I made a decision that I must find an animal that wouldn't end up on someone's dinner plate. I simply couldn't bare the thought of putting my heart into someone else's dinner.

Before I'd had time to make a practical, thought out decision an old friend called me with an offer I could not refuse! The owner of an exotic animal park, he needed to sell a pair of llamas. Did I know anyone who would be interested in buying them? In a few hour's time I pulled up at his park, in a borrowed pick-up with horse trailer. Now, I'm not sure just how much he knew about llamas, but it didn't really matter because I was so excited I forgot to ask. As we were driving back to my farm I remarked that I had no idea what these things (they were still things to me then) ate. The owner of the pickup, who had better sense than to let me go off in this truck, and was driving, offered to let me have a bale of hay that was in the feed compartment of the horse trailer. That is how I started raising llamas!

Time passed and life changed. My llamas and I moved to north Georgia and realized a far happier existence. In the mean time I was deeply concerned about Cocoa being able to adapt to an unfamiliar barn and pasture. By the time we moved I had a much larger and fancier herd of llamas but I still had Cocoa and two more of my original llamas. My original llamas didn't come into my life with registration papers and the like. I used to refer to them as my mystery llamas. I never really knew anyone's age for sure, and for all I knew they had been dropped off on this planet by a space ship. Of my three old ladies, the eldest and most bedraggled of the girls was Cocoa. The life span of the average llama is twenty to twenty-five years, and the University of Georgia Vet. School judged Cocoa to be around thirty-six years old when I took her there for tests on her eyes. She was totally blind by this time. Once Cocoa had been at the new farm for a few days she was totally at home.

After the first adjustment, Cocoa never seemed to let her blindness interfere with living her life. While I had some initial concern with her ability to adapt to new pastures and a new barn, she managed beautifully. Cocoa had been accidentally exposed to one of my stud llamas in the excitement of the big move. I didn't give it a great deal of thought, as she had been out of the breeding pool for many years and most old llamas will eventually stop cycling if they remain un-bred for a long time, or at least that's what I'd always been taught! We did keep a special eye on her when it came time for her to deliver, if she had actually conceived, but with no expectations! Her due date came and went and Cocoa sure didn't display any rounding or bagging up of her udder. She was still the same raggedy old spoiled old sweetheart and displayed not the slightest sign of impending motherhood.

About three months after the latest possible due date, the llama hand called me one day to come see what he had discovered in the barn. He commented that it looked as though someone had miscarried. A quick eyeballing of my maternity pasture revealed all the expectant mama llamas peacefully waddling around chewing their cud while their visibly pregnant bodies swayed contentedly. I didn't bother to check Cocoa, I just couldn't see any way she could have concealed a pregnancy in that bony, fur draped skeleton.

I stepped to the corner of the barn where the offending lump of bloody matter lay, and stood dumbfounded. It appeared to be an afterbirth and just as I was reaching for a hoe to move the mass around so I could better determine what was up I was shocked to see it move. Not much but it fluttered a bit from time to time. Laying the hoe aside I gently placed my hand on the bloody mess and felt a tiny form! I scooped what I now knew was afterbirth away to unveil the tiniest of baby llamas. The baby was breathing tiny breaths and one eye slowly opened as if to check out who had removed the warm covering and why. It didn't take long to see that we had a girl. A tiny fairy of a girl llama, who looked like she might not stay around this world for very long. I knew the first moment I laid eyes on her that she WAS Angel. She was white with rich chocolate brown Appaloosa spots and a lovely blanket of chocolate over her shoulders. Her tiny face was lovely. It was brown but divided into different shades. Her little ears stood straight up, almost defiant in their erect stance. She never even attempted to stand. The smallest normal weight for a baby llama, or cria is twenty pounds and it would be surprising if she weighed half of that. When we got around to weighing Angel she did weigh twelve pounds. She was as weak as she was tiny! I was scared to touch her at first, she seemed so delicate I was afraid she might break.

Poor old darling Cocoa showed absolutely no interest and no sign of milk production at this point, I was astounded she had enough grit at her great age to build a baby. It did take her a good bit longer than breeder llamas, but she was so antique. I decided that Angel was an 'end of day llama.' For those who don't collect old glass, they used to pour all the different bits of colored glass together at the end of the day in glass factories, and mold a few final pieces to use up the left overs. The finished product was called 'End of Day' glass. I decided Cocoa didn't have the strength left to make a new baby from scratch so she put Angel together using left-over llama bits and pieces from all her other llama babies.

Angel was too weak to stand, it was winter, and between and that and the fact that Cocoa had no milk I moved her into the house. She spent most of her time lying between my two grandsons on a rug in front of the fireplace. At first she shook almost all the time but she finally seemed to warm up. She took to a bottle right away. We soon discovered that fairy like as she might be, she was a living being and she eliminated just like any other animal. After a rather soggy beginning, I made a mad dash to town where I acquired a packet of new-born disposable diapers. I soon made a really significant discovery; if you have occasion to diaper an animal with a furry tail, never and I do mean never leave the tail inside the diaper. After a bottom shampoo, I did a little strategic adjustment on the diapers. Clad in a cut-off child's sweatshirt and diapers with her curly brown tail flying like a flag above her diminutive rump, she snuggled on the rug in front of the fireplace and hummed contentedly. When Angel was nestled between her new human friends, I returned to the barn to check on mama.

Cocoa was happily enjoying her extra bonus of grain, which I gave her, figuring that she had quite a busy day. After double checking to be sure that she was none the worse for plopping out our little Angel, I released her back into the pasture. I watched her carefully for any sign that she was aware of having given birth and was distressed over the absence of her baby but she displayed no sign of distress or even awareness. Angel spent that night and a few to follow snuggled between her adopted brothers, drinking all the milk we would give her and humming her contentedness. The next morning we took off for the vet's office with Angel gently enveloped in a warm blanket, in Bryce's (my eldest grandson) lap. Because Angel received no mother's milk in the first twenty-four hours, she had to be transfused with plasma that I kept in the freezer for just such an eventuality.

Angel's first check-up brought news that, while not surprising was a bit disheartening. Apparently her heart was grossly abnormal. For the time-being we drew blood for further tests, and brought her home. My dear vet, concerned for my happiness wanted very badly to put her down. He felt there was little chance she was a viable animal and he was concerned that I was putting so much into what he felt sure was a losing proposition. I couldn't even think of it. If Cocoa had managed to produce a baby at her great age then I was going to do everything in my power to manage to get her on her feet and back outside with her mother.

On the third night, I was ready to try re-introducing her to Cocoa in the morning. Angel was up and about at last, and apparently in great good health. The children woke me up in the morning crying that something was wrong with Angel. Something was very wrong! I rushed downstairs and there she lay, flat on the floor. Her eyes were mattered almost shut and she rattled horribly with each labored breath. She had a fever of one hundred and three. I flew to the phone and called the vet's emergency number, since it was far too early for him to be at the clinic. He was out of town! Well, the north Georgia mountain where I live is not exactly famous for it's llama vets so I then called, long distance, my old vet from the time I lived in South Carolina. She said to head over, so we did. I was afraid that Angel wouldn't survive the trip, but this was our best bet.

Joy, the vet, treated what turned out to be a severe respiratory infection. I had the foresight to have brought another bag of plasma and so we transfused Angel again. It was a pretty sure bet that if she was sick then the first transfusion hadn't been enough to get the immune protection she needed. Joy pleaded with me to let her put Angel to sleep, she felt that between her heart problems and an infection that a healthy baby would have a hard time getting over, she had little chance. By this time I was getting stubborn, and perhaps Angel was too. When Angel was about two weeks old I attempted to re-introduce her to the pasture and to Cocoa. I had been massaging Cocoa's udder regularly to encourage milk production so I felt like a reattachment wasn't impossible. Cocoa, however had other ideas, she investigated Angel carefully with her nose, then turned and walked away making it very clear that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with this tiny creature in the blue child's sweatshirt.

I was trying to puzzle out the best way to help Cocoa recognize her baby. Because Cocoa was blind the best solution might be to link them somehow by scent. Experience had taught me that Cocoa's sense of smell was extremely acute so I searched long and hard for an odor mild enough not to irritate her delicate sense of smell. My hand finally fell on an abandoned bottle of cream rinse that had fallen over on the shampoo shelf in the barn. I liberally coated her back, chest and neck with the fragrant liquid. I then sent her off to sunbathe, let the cream rinse soak in and the smell become familiar to her. Once she had been dealt with, I anointed Angel with the same elixir and cozied up to her in the tack room to keep her company while she dried and seasoned.

In a couple of hours I caught up Cocoa and put her into a stall. Then I crossed my fingers, held my breath and deposited Angel into the stall. I stayed close enough so that I could provide a rescue if it became necessary, but I got out of the area and settled down to watch. It probably took about an hour, but like a soap-opera reunion, they soon were snuggled up together. Angel sucked that old dry bag for all it was worth. She had to be doing it for the comfort because there sure wasn't any milk at that point! Angel happily took her bottle when offered and after a week or so Cocoa actually started producing milk! It was easy to tell for Angel soon ran around with a milk mustache. She also slacked off on her bottled milk consumption about that time. We watched her weight but Mom must have brewing a good blend for she continued to gain and grow! We sure weren't out of the woods yet but I looked at every new day with Angel as a gift from God

The only way I could justify going through the unending struggle and worry was to be clear in my heart and mind that when Angel's time came she would leave. I came to terms with that, then worked very hard to do what I could to enable her to stay around. She was the dearest little llama I have ever known, right from the first time I held her tiny body in my arms and she turned her enormous brown eyes up to me as if to say "I trust you." At the same time I made a clear decision that if she could not have a pain-free happy life then I would quit fighting to keep her alive.

Over the next months I kept a weather eye on Angel, but she appeared not to be taking life any too seriously. She had a best friend named Carolina Cross-Boots with whom she explored her ever expanding world. Carolina was born several weeks after Angel but they moved around the pasture like twins, 'Mutt and Jeff' twins! Carolina, tall, graceful and black as onyx and Angel, a lovely little elf of a llama covered with rich brown freckles! Together they made a friend out of the old barn cat, Trouble and together they tormented the older females as youngsters are wont to do! By this time I was finally able to relax my guard, although still a fairy llama, Angel seemed to get stronger every day

I never thought about it, but the life and death struggle Angel and I fought together seemed to have forged a bond that defied logic. One day, not long after, a friend and I were visiting about twenty miles from the farm when I was seized by an inexplicable and uncontrollable need to return to the farm. Grabbing my friend by the hand, I whispered a "trust me" to her, raced with her to the car and took off for home. The drive home was pretty quiet although I attempted to lighten the air by saying that now everybody would know I was loony. I simply didn't care! I just knew I had to get back to the farm!

We pulled down the driveway, parked in front of the house and as I flung open my car door I saw Angel sitting in the pasture. Then before my eyes she went into a seizure! Her long lovely neck arched over her back until her neck was bent almost double. I have often heard this position in llamas called the death arch, and in fact was told that once this happened the animal was as good as dead. I will never know how I knew what to do but I located a tranquilizer in a bottle in my purse, dissolved in a little water and poured it down her throat. Then I sat on the ground and held her! I rocked her in my arms, tears pouring down my face, I prayed, I prayed so very hard. Before long I could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. My first thought was that she was gone and that I'd been called home to be with her as she was going home! Rather than going limp, her little neck began to straighten out and soon she rested her head on my breast. One look into those eyes and I knew she wasn't going anywhere

Naturally enough, this crisis brought another trip to the vet's, but a trip that revealed very little. DR. Pat gave me medication to use if it ever happened again but he didn't think the seizure boded well for the future. Since that day, Angel has never had another problem with her health. She is now a lovely 'three year old' animal. She will forever be diminutive and she can never function as a breeding animal but she doesn't seem to mind. Angel has carved out her own special niche in my herd as well as in my heart. She lives in the pasture with new mothers and young babies. There she fills the roll of big sister, baby-sitter, and aunt. She's the first new friend the new little llamas make. She's the friend who helps the little ones when weaning time comes and mama is moved back to the main pasture.

I have a lot of gratitude to my llamas. They've all taught me so much about life, theirs as well as my own. I've learned so much about love and trust from them, but most of all from my darling Angel, my living miracle. I've also learned that life is not on my terms but that there is cause for hope and joy in each new day. I have no way to know how long Angel will be a gift in my life. I will give thanks to God every day she is here with me!

Myra Freeman
2222 Old Hwy #171
Lake Charles, Louisiana 70615
Email Myra