Normally, animals like me, but in the first look we shared, I knew Louis the Llama disliked me. By the time our fifteen minute ‘acquaintance’ period was over, I was certain that Louis the Llama loathed me. Before we even left for our trek, Louis had both spit at me and rejected my kind, gentle efforts at brushing his fur (wool? hair?). My friend Lizzie, on the other hand, was quickly becoming know as the ‘llama whisperer’.
Check out the look of pure happiness on both of their faces. Ugh.
We were in the Surrey hills, outside Godalming, visiting and trekking with llamas for the evening, and Lizzie and I were paired up with Louis, intending to share walking responsibilities through our hour long trek. I let Lizzie begin, since she was the clear favourite. Meandering along through the forest, we stopped frequently to allow the llamas to eat, Louis in particular. Apparently llamas eat for up to 17 hours a day, and Louis was maxing out, all the while determined to deliver llama cut-eye my way.
Can you see the llama cut-eye?
Lizzie and Louis began to form an attachment. They posed for photos, went for a jog, even had some alone time in a sunlit field. Louis made it clear that I was not welcome in their twosome, despite sharing a common first-name first letter, it was clear, this was Lizzie and Louis’s llama love…no room for Lindsay.
Enjoying a private moment in the field.
Determined to make Louis love me (as we females can be prone to doing), I took charge of his leash and struck up a conversation. I mentioned how lovely the weather was, apologised for our first meeting – perhaps I had done something to upset him, and asked about his favourite plants to eat. I was pulling out all the stops, but Louis didn’t give a shit.
Just when I was about to ask him if he understood French or Spanish, Louis took off.
That’s right, that llama started to run. Flat out. With me behind him, holding onto the leash, yelling at the group ahead of us to make way. As I ran, I could hear Lizzie’s laughter ringing out through the forest.
Before Lizzie caught up to us, Louis made a game-changing choice. He bucked his hind legs. Bucked, as if to say, “what are you still doing here, inferior one? Have I not made it clear that I despise you?”
Louis probably hated my raincoat.
I passed Louis off to her, telling her to enjoy rekindling their llama love, and wiped my hands clean of Louis. Walking in front of them, I felt relieved to have the llama off my hands. I was free to wander the trail, take photos, and occasionally jump out of the way when another pissed off llama galloped by. Thoroughly enjoying my new found freedom, I was pulled back into llama reality by Lizzie’s strangled yelp-laugh.
I turned around to find her face pulled into a look of reluctant, yet slightly amused, disgust.
“Louis farted…loudly…and it stinks.”
Guess he didn’t love Lizzie that much after all. That, or llamas have a really nasty way of attracting mates.