1) "You are in my space and I'm warning you"....(see picture above, head tilts, ears back, chin up, possibly some gurgling).
2) "Didn't get the hint?" (Carmel will spit some wet pellets at Striker)
3) "Okay, that's it...you are really pissing me off" (Carmel will be horking up big green gobs of regurgitated hay onto Striker's fine white fleece...I find males aim for the face, while females aim in the air and let it fall).
Females will stop fighting at this point....Alpaca males can take it further...
4) (no words here because it's just pure testosterone now)...neck wrestling...running and butting chests...chasing each other around the pasture screeching as if someone is being murdered. When they are out of breath, they'll come back huffing and puffing, lips hanging down and drooling because even they don't like the taste of angrily regurgitated cud. Sometimes one will have a bit of the other guys fibre stuck in between his bottom teeth. These all out competitions are all to have the prime fenceline spot in order to win the hearts of the ladies...but apparently they haven't figured out that standing there with your lip hanging down, drooling green spittle and your buddies butt-hair stuck in your teeth doesn't make you a prime candidate for date-night.
Here's a picture of Lily and her adoptive mom, Aurelia this week. You might remember that we struggled to bottle-feed Lily, when her birth-mom wouldn't feed her. It was touch and go until Aurelia stepped in. She's never had a cria, but somehow started lactating just enough to save Lily. At six months, Lily is 59 lbs and loves to eat. Compare that to Ginger beside her, who is 3 days younger but whose mom Pepita has an abundance of milk. Ginger is 85 lbs.
Isn't Lily pretty?
This is a picture of the little public library where I work part-time. It looks quiet because I took the picture in the morning before I switched on the Open sign. See how the sun comes onto the table from the big picture window?