Chapter Five:
Shopping Trip
[Page 3]
I liked Whiskers. "You're a real charmer,'' I said to him.
Whiskers was listening to me. I felt more like the job applicant
than like the employer. "If you come live with us we'll take
you hiking. You'll live with a couple of other males, and next year
you can breed Posey. Did you ever meet her? She used to live here.''
I couldn't tell what he thought of my offer. Kelly walked him around
a bit, and we all prepared to leave, the humans to talk in Dan's
kitchen, the llamas to go out into the dark night again. I knew
they had shelter out there; Dan explained that they didn't always
choose to use it. We had already noticed that with our three at
home.
Over tea, I tried to articulate a recurring question. "I keep
wondering what I'm doing with llamas. It's exciting to go around
looking at them, and they're lots of fun at home, but I wonder if
it isn't going to turn out to be just another passing fancy.''
"Being around llamas tends to be addicting,'' Dan said with
a grin.
"Yes, I've noticed that, but I'm vaguely uncomfortable with
my `back-to-the-land' impulses. Oh, it's wonderful to have a garden,
and I do love our land and the llamas, but sometimes I'm afraid
of missing out on the really important things, of not making any
significant contribution with my life.
"My classmates from Stanford are distinguished professors
by now, doing research. Or they're fairly high up in the government.
Or combining motherhood with a full-time medical practice. And what
am I doing? Breeding llamas. This is the twentieth century, this
is the nuclear age, this is a time of incredible challenges, and
I just wonder if I'm retreating from the real issues by taking on
llamas.''
Dan told us why he was involved with llamas, breeding them, training
them, studying them, brokering them, planning a trip to South America.
"I think there's a lot of significant work that can be done
with llamas. They have an important place in healing the breach
between man and nature.
"I see what happens on every pack trip we take. Everybody
relaxes during the trip. You might expect that just from being out
in nature. But it's more than that: people notice the sensitivity
and intelligence of the llamas, and it blows their minds. They start
thinking about all kinds of things. You wouldn't believe some of
the conversations we have, on those llama trips. I've been told
many times that they have had a profound impact.
"Humanity must come to a greater appreciation of nature, and
it must happen pretty fast,'' he went on. "If not, well, there's
a point of no return out there someplace. If we blow it, it won't
be just for ourselves. I'm not doing all this for people. I'm doing
it for the llamas.''
"Dan, thank you,'' I said. "You've just handed me a missing
piece of my own personal jigsaw puzzle. Not that I'm going to start
doing all the things you're doing. For some reason I'm pretty optimistic
about the future of our planet. But what you've said gives me more
of a feeling for how my enjoyment of llamas could be the basis for
something. If this sounds vague, it is. But food for thought.''
It was late, and we went out to sleep in our van. As we lay there
listening to the rain, I thought of times I had heard the rain on
the van in Guatemala. I thought of the harmony with nature of the
Indians there, and I thought of the large amounts of pesticide they
breathed in the coffee plantations. Nothing was simple. But I had
a new piece of the puzzle. Thoughts of llamas turned into dreams
of llamas. Whiskers was telling me things.
When we woke, it was still overcast but not raining. We took our
tea out to the pasture to watch Whiskers. We thoughtlessly brought
along the bran muffins we were having for breakfast, and a dozen
curious llamas would gladly have relieved us of them. It seemed
somehow rude to eat in front of them, so we retreated to the van
to finish breakfast.
We scarcely had to discuss it; both of us felt Whiskers would be
a fine addition to our little herd. Kelly arranged the van for llama
hauling and puttered with the engine.
I went back to the llama pasture, taking Cider with me on lead.
I wanted to watch Whiskers' interactions with the larger males.
Dan had said Whiskers could be quite a fighter, one who wouldn't
hesitate to take on llamas much larger than himself.
Nobody was fighting this morning. Cider wanted to play with the
llamas. To distract her, I walked her around the large pasture,
letting her sniff this and that, a bush here, a dung pile there.
At first the llamas watched us from afar. Then they all came running
across the meadow, Whiskers in the lead, Kemo a close second. We
made quite a procession, meandering around the pasture at a dog's
pace. Whenever Cider would turn toward the llamas, they stepped
back a little. When she turned away, they came up closer.
Dan joined me there. "Kelly said you've decided to take Whiskers,''
he said, and I felt that he was glad. "Be sure and take him
places, do things with him, or he'll be bored. He loves to have
a good time.''
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