The summer days were long and warm, but winter was already blowing a chill across our minds. Our first winter on the land had been difficult, with the winds battering our trailer as if the thin walls, built in southern California, were gauze curtains. Ice had formed at night on the dogs’ water bowl in the kitchen. We had been snowbound twice. For weeks there had been six-foot snowdrifts. Everyone had said it was the worst winter in years, but we wanted to be well prepared for whatever the coming winter might bring.
We built sheds for the llamas. We moved our trailer to a less exposed spot, bought a second old trailer with fine wood panelling, and began building a large greenhouse/living room between the two. I was sorry to move the trailer. I had grown accustomed to seeing Levi looking in our bedroom window early in the morning. It was a nice routine, and I would miss it. But the trailer did seem to fit well into the new spot, still near the llama fields but on the other side of them.
The first morning there, I opened my eyes and looked out the window. Levi and Tumbleweed were sitting as close to our bedroom window as they could get. Levi was gazing in. I was delighted, even though I recognized that their interest in our movements stemmed, in part at least, from a desire for breakfast.
Sometimes Levi was balky on our walks. One evening, we took him out with Posey, leaving Tumbleweed behind. Levi didn’t like leaving his buddy, and after a while he just sat down. He wouldn’t budge. I tried running at him, which I’d heard would get a sitting llama up, but he was imperturbable. As soon as I started to walk back toward the field where Tumbleweed was watching, Levi stood up and followed me.
All we wanted that evening was a lazy stroll, so we took Posey by herself. “We’d better do more training with Levi,” I suggested as we wandered along Llama Lane.
“How do you propose we teach him to do what we want, instead of whatever he pleases?” asked Kelly wryly.
“I don’t know. Just practice, I guess.”
My confidence increased as I succeeded in little things. One evening when Kelly led Posey, and I had both males, the tarp covering the tractor flapped in the breeze and startled Posey. She reared up, and the males ran sideways. Levi headed off to the right, while Tumbleweed angled away from him. I held on tight, spinning around with their lead ropes in my hands. I was ready to let go if I really had to and pleased when they stopped and I was still there.
As I became more comfortable around them, my love for the llamas increased Yet at times I felt frustrated: here were these incredibly woolly animals, and I just wanted to cuddle them. Posey liked a cuddle now and then, but you had the challenge of catching her first. The males were not into cuddles
