I prefer to take each llama individually, in order to demonstrate that the world does not end out of the sight of other llamas. During one such session recently, while I was mentally planning what to load in the training pack for the next walk, I kicked a flattened plastic bottle lying along the side of the road. This got my trainee's attention, so naturally I picked it up for him to sniff and discover its more benign qualities. After he was satisfied the bottle was non-lethal, it occurred to me that the road was improved by the bottle's absence, and why don't I just slip it into the pack? We had practiced zipper operation at home, but this was this animal's first "road zip," as I like to call it. After a couple small side steps, the pack was unzipped and the bottle was safely on board. Now, I have been up and down this road for years, and had always been dismayed at the amount of trash accumulating along it. So I knew we would not have to go far for the next little lesson. Sure enough, about twenty steps hence lay a smashed styrofoam cup. Approach, pick up, sniff, sniff, and into the pack it went, easy as you please. Thus was discovered (by me, anyway) a great way to spice up pack training walks.

Well, DUH ...

What's so surprising about this technique is its simplicity. Why hadn't I thought of it before? Picture me, traipsing up and down the road with a llama being trained to carry a load, carrying instead empty packs or "manufactured" weight (sandbags and the like), and all the while I'm cursing the ignorant so-and-so's who toss their fast food bags, water bottles, cigarette packs and all other manner of rubbish out on the road for me to have to look at and even step over. You get an idea of how ridiculous it was. I have no idea why it took me so long to make the connection, but having done so, I'm sold on it. Why, you ask, would one get so thrilled about picking up other peoples' trash and not get paid for it? Read on.

Why, indeed?

In the first place, you do get paid for it. At least you do here in Michigan, with our famous ten-cent bottle and can return law. OK, so you won't be planning any trips to Vegas based on such returns, but, depending on the drinking and container disposal habits of the locals, it might just help pay for a halter and lead. Or maybe just a candy bar. Anyway, besides returnable bottles and cans, I have found a variety of treasures, including tools, nuts, bolts, washers, rags, and coins. I once found a five-dollar bill. Whoopee!

Secondly, it's a great training exercise. The llama is learning that these walks aren't as predictable as they once were, but that he will survive nonetheless. He's learning to stop at irregular intervals, watch his human do strange things like bend over and pick up unfamiliar (sometimes scary) objects, and stand as these are placed in his pack. If you're adventurous, your llama can also learn how to follow you off the beaten path to retrieve a particularly tempting piece of refuse from the ditch or even from the weeds and brush beyond.

And it's not just the llama doing all the learning, either. The trainer is also discovering the animal's reactions to certain objects and sounds, and how to manage these reactions. A good trainer will pay attention to his or her own body language so as not to give the llama conflicting signals (i.e. pulling the animal forward then stopping abruptly). And, if you are relative newcomer to training, this exercise can help you gain experience and confidence.

In the beginning...

Here's what you'll need to get started: one llama, with halter and lead rope (I like the thick cotton ones); a pack that fits (it's recommended that the llama has worn the pack and walk the same or similar route without any complications); and, of course, you'll need a road with trash on it. Low traffic volume is highly recommended, especially for the first experience.

The procedure is quite simple. As you go along, try and look ahead to spot an offending piece of garbage before you get to it. As I approach the spot where I'm going to stop, I give the lead rope a couple of light shakes as a slowdown signal. When the llama has come to a complete stop, pick up whatever it is you stopped for, but remain aware of the animal's movements, if any (none is best). I often let my llamas sniff the items before placing them in the pack, especially unfamiliar or noisy ones. Larger items and plastic bags are the biggest challenges, but with patience, they, too, can end up in the pack. I sometimes will shake the plastic bags (away from the animal) to help with desensitization. Placing items in the pack can be tricky at first; having a human helper on the opposite side to help stabilize a jittery animal is a big help. Be sure to balance your load! You will be very sorry if you do not follow this basic rule. Llamas usually start out with one side more workable than the other; keeping your load balanced will force you to work with both sides equally. If my pack has zippers, I unzip them once and leave them unzipped for the rest of the walk, loading as I go.

Think big.

The first time I did this, I used a small training pack. It was filled within a half mile. Although, they work well at first, training packs generally do not have the capacity to go very far (unless you have picked up along the route already, or the route is just naturally litter free). And, by all means, do not limit yourself to roads (though they tend to be the messiest)! Any path or trail will do, and picking up trash need not be the primary objective of your outing. It's perfectly reasonable for two or more handlers and llamas to work together, as long as they get practice soloing as well.

A couple more pointers...

This exercise is best accomplished in the spring and fall, when the trash is most obvious (i.e. not covered with grass or snow) and when the weather conditions are best for both handler and llama. But don't wait for optimal conditions; if you want to give it a whirl today, let 'er rip. Do be careful of the heat, however. No amount of removed trash can justify a heat-stressed animal -- but you knew that.

I prefer unpaved roads (due to generally lower traffic volume and speed) and footpaths, but, then again, we live on a dirt road--easy for me to say! I suppose one's own yard would suffice (depending on the amount of trash present). If all else fails, it provides a good excuse to haul your llamas to another location for a walk (and more trailer practice to boot).

As you and your llama become more practiced, you can venture further from the beaten path to retrieve a larger variety of items. But keep it simple at first, and progress slowly. You want to avoid overwhelming your trainee. I usually end the walk with a restful stake-out in an area of our yard that needs mowing. This usually helps calm an agitated animal, and rewards a more relaxed one.

That's it, folks

So that's all there is to it. It's good for the environment, educational (both for you and your trainees), uplifting, healthful, wholesome, the whole bit. You might even talk to your neighbors. In fact, I can't think of one good reason why I shouldn't have been doing this all along, other than it took two years to occur to me. I suppose I should be grateful to the fine citizen (read: idiot) who so thoughtfully (-lessly) left that plastic bottle in our path that day. Somehow I'll find a way to thank him or her. In the meantime I'll just keep picking up the trash and treasures alike, and training llamas as I go.

Email Margaret: mavaca@usol.com
Copyright © 2002 Margaret Van Camp .