Conv-Llama War Story

From: Steve Pennington

Dated: May 2, 2015

Subject: War Story

My llama story is a little different. My son in law, his dad and I go hunting in Colorado every year. For several years we hunted on a working cattle ranch near Meeker. The routine was to get to the ranch about an hour before first shooting light and hike across the pastures to a ridge line rising from the valley floor for a few hundred feet. Walking across the pasture by the light of the moon was a little tricky sometimes and you had to concentrate where you stepped to keep from stepping in a chuck hole or trip over a rock as you moved among the cattle. The ranch owner also had a pet llama that grazed with the herd. On one particular morning I was being as stealthy as I could be making my way to the ridge line. At some point the llama decided I was intruding and silently head butted me in the back. My first startled reaction was to try and avoid the explosive discharge of every bit of waste in my body and the second impulse was to start the shooting a little early. Thankfully I recovered before either event occurred.

SLP

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From: Ken Kalish

Dated: May 2, 2015

Subject: War Story

Rick:
A llama’s method of attack depends on the kind of animal it has encountered. Smaller animals like cougars, wolves, dogs and coyotes (yes, I know a wolf can go 125 pounds) they approach with head low, push their head under the target, grab it with their teeth, then toss it into the air or on its side. Once the varmint is down, they begin to windmill with their front legs, trying to get to the belly of the target. A few quick down strokes can rip open an animal’s abdomen. For bigger animals, like bear, they use a body slam. They rise up on hind legs and launch themselves through the air, trying to hit the opponent high and knock it off its feet. That’s how they put down humans and other llamas. The idea is to run over the one they are attacking, kicking swift down strokes, then turn quickly and come back for more leg work. If the one being attacked lifts a leg or arm to fend off the attack, the llama will grab it with those fighting teeth and rip away whatever it can grab. Their top lip is split, so they can jam quite a large hunk of muscle in those jaws.
Having never gotten beyond the body slam and return kicks, I can’t say what it would do for the rest of that 45 minutes. Oscar weighed 350 pounds when he hit me from behind. I was lifted off my feet and flew about ten feet before coming to ground next to a tree stump. My whip saved my bacon. That said, there was a man in Texas some three or four years ago who decided to get into the pasture and mess with his neighbor’s sheep (no sexual innuendoes, now) in some manner. He knew the llama was there, but apparently did not know why. That fight lasted half an hour. It ended when a sheriff’s deputy put the llama down with a combination of his 9mm and the squad’s 12 gauge. The neighbor was taken to a hospital where he needed more than 400 stitches.
And for those who don’t think a llama would take on a bear, one did so down by Hutchinson about three years ago. The owners called me and asked if I knew how to sling a llama that couldn’t stand on its own. I explained the process to them, but half way through they handed the phone to their vet. Once that was finished, I asked the vet what had happened. An adult black bear had attacked some calves and the llama jumped in. The bear ran off after a brief fight that left the llama with major muscle damage which the vet said could only have occurred if the llama was on top of the bear and the bear was on its back. That llama took more than a year to get back to work, but he’s still out there with “his” calves every spring.
Anybody wanna buy a llama? Anyone have a grandchild to whom you might want to read or sing (two different pieces of work) “Is Your Momma a Llama?” They’re great beasts, and you haven’t been kissed until you’ve been kissed by a llama’s three lips. ;-}
Ken

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From: Randy Kafka

Dated: May 1, 2015

Subject: War Story

Ken,
I know that you enjoy the heck out of them, but what do you raise them for......fur, ride them around? I will now ask what might sound like a strange/dumb question. Do folks eat them?
hang tuff,
Randy

From: Ron Turner

Dated: May 1, 2015

Subject: War Story

Ken,
I fouind your Llama dissertation both interesting and enlightening.

Ron

From: Ken Kalish

Dated: May 1, 2015

Subject: War Story

Friends:
Well, my new rescue has personality issues. I have a magnificent 450-pound state fleece champion, Denzel. He's intact, royal in bearing, and a disciplinarian. The new guy, whom we now call Goofy Bean, made the mistake of pitching his 250-pound mass against Denzel. Twice. In Denzel's private paddock.
The first time was a demonstration match, with both running around and screaming the attack voice through mouthfuls of opponent's hair. When Denzel tired of that, he knocked Goofy Bean to the ground in one sudden dash and then lay down on top of Goofy's head. That's llama talk for "Now we don't want to hurt one another, do we?" The correct response is for the one on the bottom to lie perfectly still for about five minutes, which is llama talk for "No, we don't!"
I took advantage of the lull in noise and slobber to halter Goofy and put him in a small but adequate pen from which he couldn't see Denzel. Denzel, however, wanted to make Goofy aware that he (Denzel) was still close enough to smell the upstart.
Round two was messier. First off, Denzel wasn't in the mood for a long fight. Second, Goofy has some of the longest attack teeth I have ever seen - except for those in Denzel's mouth. There will be blood.
Denzel won by TKO in the first round. Goofy decided to try and administer an oral neutering, in other words, to remove Denzel's masculinity with fighting teeth. Denzel said no. He snapped around and grabbed Goofy by the ear, tearing a six-inch rip from skull to three inches short of the top of Goofy's ear. Goofy thought that was a bit unsportsmanlike. He attempted to gather his dignity while simultaneously trying to outrun Denzel. Imagine a carousel spinning at about 30 mph while raspberry jelly flies about.
Finally, Goofy stopped running and turned to face Denzel. Bad decision. Denzel didn't slow down and ran over Goofy like a train encountering a frog, with similar results. Denzel's front toenail tore a two-inch wound between Goofy's right eyelash and eyebrow. Not considering that a sufficient punishment, Denzel chomped down to deepen and lengthen the injury.
Arterial blood is a brilliant red, and it also tends to exit one's body under pressure. So it was with Goofy.
I finally pulled Denzel away from Goofy, who promptly tried to bite me with his nasty, hairy teeth. Fortunately, I am a member of a species that has opposable thumbs. I snatched Goofy by the nose with my right hand while executing an administrative "peace hold" to Denzel's esophagus. Neither could continue screaming, Denzel because his vocal cords were compressed and Goofy because breathing suddenly became more important than fighting.
I put Goofy into our stock trailer (we call it the critter cage) and took him to a large animal vet. The clots had begun to harden, so the vet decided that it was more judicious to administer a large quantity of penicillin to Goofy's nether regions than to reopen the wounds and suture them.
Goofy is now free to roam his own 1/2 acre paddock some 200 yards from that inhabited by Denzel.
I am hoping that old adage about distance making the heart grow fonder will apply to these two because I have no future plans to step between them. I'm too old and weak, not to mention having an aversion to enduring holes punched in my own skin by fighting teeth and sharp toenails.
The fun of caring for the llamas never ends. These [following photo] are Goofy Bean’s fighting teeth. That shaggy stuff is Denzel’s nether regions hair. Notice that the teeth point backwards. That’s how they get a certain kill on coyotes and wolves--wound one badly enough and his friends will eat him. Guaranteed flesh ripping/hurtful stuff:

From: Roger Carroll

Dated: May 2, 2015

Subject: War Story

I would say llamas they use everything Ken, just wondering how a llama attacks. With teeth, hooves, kicking?

From: Jim White

Dated: May 1, 2015

Subject: War Story

Randy,
With a great deal of trepidation, I'm going to try to answer your questions for Ken. From all I have read in his postings over the past 3 or 4 years, the llama is a very intelligent animal, raised primarily for its fleece and (in some countries) as a beast of burden. They are also very territorial and therefore make good "guard llamas" for those who raise sheep and other animals by protecting those animals the llamas have been "introduced to" from those coyotes and other predators which might try to kill and eat the sheep. Ken raises them for lease/rent/sale, etc. primarily for this purpose. And, when properly handled, they are not really a problem. It is just when they "get their blood up" that difficulties can arise.
I don't think I would want to raise llamas, at least not at my present age, but Ken seems to like animals of nearly every sort and enjoys working them. I rather doubt if you could ever convince Ken that he should eat one....
Best wishes,
Jim W
PS: Ken, correct me if I am wrong.

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From: Randy Kafka

Dated: May 1, 2015

Subject: War Story

Ken,
As always, thanks for the insight. I never knew half of what you have shared with us.
Hang tuff,

From: Rick Fredricksen

Dated: May 2, 2015

Subject: War Story

Ken, just wondering how a llama attacks. With teeth, hooves, kicking? And, in your example, what would one do for 45 minutes to that poor human?

Rick

From: Rick Frederisksen

Dated: May 2, 2015

Subject: War Story

IKen, I guess you don't need a weapon for home security when you have a llama watching the perimeter. Seriously, I wonder if they have a use in the military, like special forces. I have seen a few in fenced-in farms around Iowa, but didn't know much about them; now I know only a little more, just enough to treat them with respect. Seems they are kind of like a heavy weight MMA fighter at the bar: be nice and no one gets hurt. They remain mysterious to me and I'm not sure I'd want to approach one, for fear he was taken away from his mama at a young age. If you haven't written about them, it seems like good material, and something you clearly know a lot about. They must be intelligent and probably realize you are saving their lives. When I need a body guard, I'll give you a call.

Rick

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From: Ken Kalish

Dated: May 1, 2015

Subject: War Story

Oh, one more thing, I also have taken possession of five homeless fish, three koi and two pacosamus. The latter came as little four inch fingerlings, but both have grown. The larger is a foot long, the smaller is eight inches.
Ken

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Llama War Story

May 2015

From: Ken Kalish

Dated: May 1, 2015

Subject: War Story

Friends:
I rescue the animals from unfortunate circumstances, ranging from an owner’s bankruptcy to physical abuse. I try to prevent insemination on my farm, but the urge to reproduce is pretty strong. That’s why I usually neuter the males as soon as they arrive. I haven’t neutered Denzel because intact, he’s worth $5,000 and neutered he’s worth $100.
Once I have an animal educated in how one should behave around varmints, I place them at farms that need protection from predators. We have bears, coyotes, wolves, and cougars up here. We also have an occasional pack of feral dogs. Llamas are fearless and loyal animals. Once they attach themselves to a herd, they will fight to the death to protect that herd. Sometimes an abusive parent or spouse learns the hard way that llamas consider the humans with whom they interact to be part of “their” herd. My Oscar is a yard llama, meaning he roams freely around the farm. He has taken on a cougar, packs of coyotes, at least two dogs, and several unannounced visitors. He will walk up to a vehicle and stand there staring in the window until I arrive and call him off.
Yes, they are good pack animals. They also have a thick fleece, but it doesn’t have much value. They can carry half of their own weight when packing, and that means they can be saddle broke.
Llamas are pretty good diagnosticians, too. They can detect some illnesses, females can smell pregnancy and will fight males that try to get too close, and llamas attach to people that might need help. Ask Guy Slater’s wife, Mary, how long that takes.
I have had only one berserker. He came to us because he was attacking every human with whom he came in contact. I took him to try and calm him, but it was a fruitless effort. He cut my cheek from the corner of my mouth to my ear with his fighting teeth. He was too dangerous to keep, so I put him down. But waste not, want not. I had him prepped by a butcher and can report that llama makes a great hamburger, but larger cuts are similar in texture and flavor to old shoes.
There’s a certain way a llama becomes a berserker. They are always males taken too soon from their mother. Llamas have a year-long childhood and a two year adolescence. People who take those sweet little crias away from mommy and then try to bottle raise them away from other llamas are going to have a berserker on their hands.
When people ask whether llamas are dangerous, I tell them that a human harming a llama’s herd will learn that an average male llama can kill an average sized human being in about 45 agonizing minutes. Because very few law enforcement people know about llama behavior, the usual method of rescuing a human involves shooting the llama. It would be so much easier if they simply sprayed the llama with Mace, but hey, the llama is just an animal attacking a human being and shooting appears to be much simpler. Perhaps, but a llama can take a lot of bullets before falling down. One male I rescued came to me with a 20 gauge slug in his chest. It’s still there some two years later, and he’s a very diligent herd guard. His name was Smokey Brown when he came to me, but I changed his name to Kevlar.
Yes, I’m a sucker for animals in need. I’ve rescued several dogs, half a dozen cats, three sheep, and at least three bear cubs. The cubs were being lured by poachers on the next land west of mine. I put together a convincing case for our local warden, and two days later the threat was gone.
In summation, I can assure you that not even dogs are as loyal as a well-treated llama, but they are working animals and do not make good pets.
Ken

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From: Ken Kalish

Dated: May 2, 2015

Subject: War Story

Yeah, you can’t hear them coming. They have leathery toes, not hooves, and those toes are equipped with some nasty and sharp toenails.
Ken