Wild Rescue (7 page)

Chapter 24

Sam took us
to the alpaca farm the next day. Ashley seemed really exhausted, and I figured it was because of her medicine. She has to take pills every day to keep her from having seizures, and they make her tired.

The alpaca owner, Mr. Morris, is from Arkansas and has a long, drawn-out way of talking. He met us at the front gate and punched the code, then led us to the barn. It had a red roof and lots of fence wire running around two big pens.

First we met Buck, a huge white dog that sniffed at our legs. I guess he smelled our dogs, Pippin and Frodo.

“Can we pet him?” Ashley said.

“Sure,” Mr. Morris said. “He’s a little cautious about strangers, but he’ll warm up to you.”

“What kind of dog is he?”

“A Great Pyrenees,” Mr. Morris said. “They’re especially good with alpacas.”

“Do they herd them?” I said. “You know, like those dogs that herd sheep.”

“No, they’re more protectors. They’ll fight a bear or a coyote or even a mountain lion that’s after one of the babies. Buck here has a couple of scrapes from some domestic dogs that tried to get in the pen.” He pulled Buck’s hair back and showed us wounds on his legs. “Those dogs will think twice ’fore they come around here again.”

Chapter 25

I would have agreed
to work at Mr. Morris’s farm if only for the chance to meet Buck. He’s a beautiful dog, and after sniffing us, he was friendly and let me pet him.

Holding the baby alpaca almost took my mind off Liz and Denise. It was so cute and the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. No wonder people love sweaters and hats made from their fur.

The baby is called a cria (you say it CREE-uh), and female alpacas usually have one per year. The pregnancy lasts 11½ months, and then the female gets pregnant again right away.

“How long do they live?” Bryce said.

“As long as 20 years,” Mr. Morris said.

He said alpacas come in about 20 natural shades, from pure black to white and everything in between. Mr. Morris’s herd of about 40 looked like a rainbow.

The baby’s name was Milk Dud—because he was born yellow and brown, like the Milk Duds box. All the time I was holding him, his mother followed me around with that long neck, eyeing me with her big eyes.

It didn’t surprise me when Mr. Morris told us alpacas are from the camel family, because they look a little like them. But they’re closer to llamas.

When we walked into the barn, I noticed a funny sound, like humming.

Mr. Morris said alpacas do that when they’re unsure of something. “They communicate with sounds and body language. It’s really amazing.”

They all came over and gathered around, like they were inspecting us. I’ve been around cows before, and they pretty much just want to eat and poop and ignore you. But these animals seemed really smart, curious about us.

Mr. Morris told us an ounce of alpaca fur is worth more than my weekly allowance, and they produce 6 to 10 pounds of fleece each year.

“We’re shearing them just before we leave, so they’ll look a little different. It’s their summer buzz cut.”

A big one stood off by itself out in the field.

Mr. Morris said, “That’s Samson, one of our males. We keep them separated from the females until it’s time for them to breed.” He pointed to the corner of the barn. “Back there in the shadows is Whitney. She’ll have her baby in a couple of weeks, probably just after we get back from vacation.”

Whitney had a rich brown coat and a white face. A tuft of lighter brown fur covered her eyes and made it look like she was wearing a stylish hat.

Mr. Morris told us he used to work for a computer company in Denver that wanted to move him to California. “So I quit and bought this farm. Then I had to figure out what to do with it. Our kids are still small, and we homeschool them, so we thought about cattle or sheep, but they’re too messy. Then we heard about alpacas.”

He lifted one of the animal’s legs and showed us its foot. It looked a little like the pad on a dog’s foot. “Cows have hooves that tromp down the grass, so we’d have to have hundreds of acres to raise them. But we can raise a lot of alpacas on a few acres.”

“And alpacas aren’t messy?” Bryce said.

Mr. Morris shook his head. “They’re like cats. They just go in one place.”

“Who lives over there?” I said, pointing to a huge house near the mountain.

“The Rugers. They got a daughter about your age.”

Chapter 26

Ashley fell silent,
and I knew why. Ruger was Denise’s last name.

Mr. Morris showed us what to do. The alpacas ate in the field during the day but needed a supplement, which looked like small dog food pellets, added to their troughs in the afternoon.

I was glad we wouldn’t be taking care of animals that would be on someone’s dinner table the next day. The worst that would happen to these was a painless haircut.

“As for Whitney, just keep her calm. She’ll want to stay in the barn. If she gets spooked or acts stressed, that can affect the pregnancy, so you’ll want to call the vet.” Ashley was taking notes, and Mr. Morris handed her a card with the vet’s phone number on it. She copied the number down and stuck the card in her pocket.

We were to come each morning and evening to feed and check on the animals. “Buck will look after them while you’re not here, but you’ll need to keep his water and food dish full too.” He showed us where the dog food was kept.

“Thanks for calling,” someone said inside.

I jumped. It certainly didn’t sound like anyone’s wife.

“That’s Lewis, our parrot. My wife will tell you what to do with him. I’d like to duct tape his beak, but that’s me. Come back tomorrow morning, and we’ll run you through an average day.”

“We’ll come over on our ATVs before church. That won’t scare them, will it?”

Mr. Morris chuckled. “They might look up as you drive in, but that’s about it. Strange dogs or cats moving around their pens will upset them.” He gave Ashley the number to punch at the front gate. “Hey, you could spend a few nights here while we’re gone. We’ve got satellite TV and pizza in the freezer.”

I thought I saw Ashley glance at Denise’s house. “We’ll see,” she said.

Chapter 27

Mom was still nervous
about the mountain lions, bears, and coyotes, but Sam convinced her that Buck would take care of us as well as the alpacas.

The cool air felt good on my face as we rode through the field the next morning, past the red rocks that rose behind our house, and around a couple of small ponds. Summer vacation, which had seemed so far away, was almost here. Just a few more days of school.

The farm looked peaceful in the morning light, with dew glistening on the grass. I could see why Mr. Morris would move from the city to a place like this.

Up on the ridge the sun glared orange off the front windows of Denise’s house and made it look like a huge jack-o’-lantern. I had to wonder if Mr. Morris had asked her to watch the alpacas. She probably laughed in his face.

I punched the access number on the keypad, and the gate opened. Buck barked and met us halfway up the driveway. It wasn’t until we took off our helmets and got off our ATVs that he smelled our clothes and calmed down.

Mr. Morris met us at the barn with his wife and three boys.

“We’re going to an island!” the youngest said.

His mother drew him in. “Tell Ashley what you’re going to do there.”

“Fish and cook out and hi-bear-nate,” he said.

“Hibernate,” another boy snarled.

“Whatever.”

“What island?” Bryce said.

“It’s off the coast of Washington state,” Mrs. Morris said. “No phones, no electricity, just the cabin, the coast, and a week of relaxing.”

“Sounds like heaven,” I said.

Mrs. Morris nudged her husband, as if reminding him of something. “Uh, yeah, listen, I know you’re going to do fine. I do need to tell you—not to worry you or anything—that these animals are purebred, so they’re pretty expensive.”

“How expensive?” Bryce said.

“Well, Whitney in there is probably worth about $25,000 because she’s pregnant.”

My jaw fell. “That’s as much as a new car. A nice new car.”

“The others are worth anywhere from $10 to maybe $20,000.” He nodded toward one of the males. “I’m not sure I should tell you how much Max is worth.”

“Please?” Bryce said.

“One of his brothers—and he doesn’t have as nice a coat as Max—sold at auction a few weeks ago for $375,000.”

Bryce and I just stood there with our mouths hanging open. Finally Bryce snickered. “Proves guys are a lot more valuable than girls.”

Mr. Morris said they were so valuable because there weren’t that many in America. “Ours come from Bolivia. They’re some of the finest in the world, so it pays to have a pure bloodline.”

Mr. Morris showed us how to lead the alpacas out of the barn, clean the stalls, put fresh water in the troughs, and prepare their food. Then he showed us how to bring them back in at night, which he said they’d pretty much do themselves. Whitney stood in the corner of her stall, pacing as she watched.

“I need to go get ready for church,” Mr. Morris said. “Stay as long as you like.”

I wandered into the field while Bryce poked around in the barn. Samson stuck his head across the top of the fence, sniffed, and grunted. The females didn’t seem to notice.

Buck loped up beside me and sat, his tongue lolling. I patted his head. He bristled and growled as a rattletrap car passed the driveway. It slowed and I tried to see inside, but I couldn’t.