Llama Love

In the past I have mentioned my almost stalker obsession with the llamas across the street. Actually, they are right across from my driveway. Everyday when I go get the mail, I am just an arms length away from "my" llamas. I gaze at them lovingly.  Of course, they couldn't care less. Really. They are only curious about me in a "sniff...sniff...she smells funny" sort of a way. I take no offense. After all, in llama land, body wash and citrus shampoo probably DO smell funny. But they have no room to talk, "essence of llama" on a hot summer day is not exactly appealing either. So there.

There are some new babies. They are precious. They look like chocolate cotton balls with legs. Really. That cute. Watching them run is so hilarious. They sort of bounce along, and chase each other. I would be tempted to coax chocolate fluff over to the fence so I could pet him, but his llama mama probably would have none of that. Unless I bribed her with a handful of  grass. Then maybe.....either she'd let me, or she'd bite my hand off. Depends on her mood.

On the other end of the field are the males. At least I'm pretty sure they are the males. There is no definite confirmation of that fact aside from them acting  like they own the place--kings of the pen so to speak. They are the noisy ones. The other night I heard them again. A high pitched screechy noise coming from the far side of the field. Sure enough the boys were at it again. Screech....Screech..... Chest butting each other...neck wrestling. Obviously, the male dominance "dance" was going on. I'm telling you, it is more interesting than watching Animal Planet around here.

I'm waiting for one of them to get loose again. The last time a mama llama got out and grazed in our front yard. I didn't mind. I just watched from my kitchen window. When her owners appeared and tried to catch her, she zigged and zagged and ran around until SHE decided it was time to go back to the other side of the fence. Where the grass is not nearly as green as my front yard.

Oh, on a side note: In yesterday's blog I mentioned the poopy birds. This morning my oldest son came running in from the deck. "Mom! Mom! I got pecked!" After some sorting out of the story I found out that the bird had not actually pecked him, but dove at him like she was getting ready to peck. An obvious strategy. A tactical maneuver on her part. I told my son that I got dive bombed yesterday. Mama bird needs to retreat----or else. This means war!!! I'm most definitely going to need therapy.

Bird Poop and Other Nasty Stuff

We have swallows that have taken up residence on our side deck. The deck we like to sit out on and commune with nature....except, I don't really enjoy the poopier side of nature. The birds decided a while back that they found the perfect perch for their nest. The location is on top of a covered electrical outlet way up on the side of our house. (the kind of outlet one plugs Christmas lights into) Well.....the proud parents have two hungry babies. That has been interesting to watch, the babies and all. I just don't like mom and dad and their poop. Gross. Not to mention if someone (namely ME) is standing out on the deck, too close to said nest, the birds dive bomb me. They look like they are coming straight for me, and then they make a strong 90 degree turn. They are trying to scare me. But I am bigger than they are....I say this yet, I might require some therapy later on, as this experience is causing me to have Alfred Hitchcock "Birds" type nightmares.

The little feathered dive bombers can rest easy, I'm not interested in eating their babies....but, I cannot say the same for our two outdoor cats, Salem,and Nikki Stix. The cats lay around on the deck all day, like cats normally do. Doing a whole lot of nothing. Right under the bird nest. I hate to mention this, but if one of those babies doesn't fly very well when the time comes, he will surely be a cat snack. Sad....but, it is the circle of life. Or in the case of baby birds hitting the deck like a sack of wet cement....the circle of certain death. Sorry, but it's the truth.

Maybe tomorrow I'll tell you about the angry male llamas across the road from us. I am fascinated by llamas. I think I might have an unhealthy addiction actually. Is it possible to be a llama stalker?

The male llamas like to fight with each other and neck wrestle, while they are making some sort of high pitched screechy noise. Boys will be boys I guess. Who knew living out here in the sticks would be such an adventure? This is like having an up close and personal live episode of Animal Kingdom....with surround sound. Cool.