23

DOLLY LLAMA

Danny was right about the junkyard bobcat. When they went out early next morning to check on her, she was wide awake and had cleaned both her food and water dishes. Wendy opened a small slot in the cage and dropped in fresh food, while Danny poured water through the wire to refill the water dish. Then they left the cat alone, hissing and snarling, as it devoured the meat.

“I sure wouldn’t want to fight her for the refrigerator,” Danny said in an awed voice. “She’s got more hiss and growl than Buzzsaw Bob.”

“That’s because she’s a grown cat, and scared to death. BB’s just a kitten, and has never learned to fear humans. Even with Kyle towering over him, yelling at him to get the hell out of the refrigerator, BB just lies there looking up at him with those bold gold eyes, not the least bit worried.” Wendy chuckled. “Look at him over there now, standing on top of his den, trying to figure out what we’re up to.”

“Do you think he knows there’s another bobcat close by?”

“For sure.” Wendy pointed to the llamas. “They know it, too. It’s critical to animals’ survival that they know what’s going on in their environment. They’re looking, listening, and smelling all the time. They’re used to sharing the outdoors, even with predators. As long as long as the predator keeps its distance, they’re not too concerned, but if it starts moving close, uh-oh!”

“How did you learn so much about animals?” Danny asked.

“Same way as you, Danny. By reading about them and taking care of them and talking to people who know more than I do. I learned a lot working at Red River.”

“How old do you think I’d have to be to volunteer there?” Danny asked.

Wendy looked him over. He was now as tall as she was and had muscled out quite a bit. He could certainly do the work. “How old are you now?” she asked.

“Thirteen,” he said, and added quickly, “Almost fourteen.”

“Tell you what. When you turn fourteen, I’ll take you to Red River Ranch and you can ask. But don’t get your hopes up,” she warned. “Most of their volunteers are at least sixteen.”

At Danny’s disappointed look, she added, “In the meantime, I’m sure glad for your help around here. What do you say we start on Velvet’s enclosure today?”

They worked hard all morning, and by noon the fence posts were in. The pen wasn’t as big as Wendy would have liked, but she planned to expand it later, when she could afford the materials. Meanwhile, little Velvet would have more space to run about than she did indoors.

They broke for lunch and headed toward the house. Wendy was thinking about what more was needed to finish the pen and whether they could get it done by tomorrow afternoon, when Danny spoke. “What’s wrong with the llamas?”

Wendy shaded her eyes and looked toward the llama pen. The two males were moving around in an agitated way, their attention focused on Dolly. Dolly herself seemed to be … what? What was she doing?

Suddenly Danny shouted, “Look! It’s been born!”

At the same instant Wendy saw what he saw: the rump of a small, russet-coloured llama, with its head under Dolly’s belly, nursing.

“Oh no!” Wendy shouted. “A baby! We’ve got to get it out of there! Male llamas sometimes kill newborns!”

Wendy could see that Dolly was trying to keep Machu and Picchu away. She might not allow Wendy to come near, either. “Run to the house and get some carrots,” Wendy instructed Danny. She started walking toward the llama pasture — walking, not running, because she didn’t want to startle them. When she reached the fence she waited, speaking quietly to Dolly.

When Danny returned, she said, “Take the carrots over to that side of the corral and see if you can attract Machu and Picchu to you. I’ll try to get Dolly and the baby out.”

Although Dolly stomped her feet nervously when Wendy came toward her, she didn’t move away. Wendy caught hold of her halter and tugged her gently toward the gate. Dolly allowed herself to be led — sort of. She stopped at each step and looked around to make sure the baby was still close by. If it lagged a step behind, she would not go one step farther until it was again glued to her side. At last Wendy got Dolly and the baby out of the pen, and shut the gate behind to keep Machu and Picchu in.

“It’s okay,” she called softly to Danny. “Now you can come see it. Not too close, though. We don’t want Dolly to feel threatened.”

“It’s beautiful,” Danny breathed. “The most beautiful cria in the whole world.”

“What’s that word you’re using?” Wendy asked. “Cria?”

“Baby llama,” Danny said. “As soon as I knew she was going to have a baby, I looked it up on the Internet, so I’d know what to call it when it was born.”

“You knew she was going to have a baby?” This Wendy found incredible. How could he have known, when she didn’t?

Danny blushed under his tan. “I saw them, uh, you know.”

“When?” Wendy asked, bewildered.

Danny thought a minute. “A year ago, I guess. It was right after we got them, when Machu — he’s the dad, you know.”

“You saw them breeding?”

“Well, she was lying down, the way llamas do. And Machu sat down behind her. Just like the picture on the website.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Wendy laughed. She was amazed, but also proud. She was the one who had encouraged Danny to use the Internet to learn about animals, and now he knew things that even she didn’t know!

With an embarrassed grin, Danny said, “I thought you saw them, too.”

“I guess I did see them, but didn’t know what was going on. I supposed llamas bred just like cows and horses. I didn’t know they did it sitting down.” Wendy stroked the baby llama’s soft orangey fur. “A cria, huh? What are we going to name her?”

For a minute they stared at the little llama in silence. Then Danny said, “Tomorrow’s Halloween.”

At first Wendy didn’t get the connection. Then it hit her. “Are you thinking that a cria with orangey fur, born the day before Halloween, might be named Pumpkin?”

Danny turned toward her with one of his rare pure-and-joyful smiles. “Yeah, Wendy. That’s just what I was thinking. Pumpkin.”

Kyle, who had worked the evening shift as usual, had slept in, but he was up now. Wendy could see him watching them out the kitchen window. He was probably trying to figure out why they were spending so much time at the llama pen instead of coming in for lunch. She waved for him to come out.

“Ahhh,” Kyle said, when he saw the cria. He stood there like the rest of them with a sappy grin on his face, enthralled with fuzzy little Pumpkin. He noticed a couple of big horseflies buzzing around the cria’s legs, and said to Wendy, “Better put some insect repellent on that baby. Otherwise the flies will drive her crazy.”

Wendy walked over to where she and Danny had been working and got the spray can of repellent she had brought out to keep the bugs from bothering them.

By now Dolly seemed comfortable having them around admiring her baby, so Wendy thought nothing of it as she bent over to spray repellent on Pumpkin’s legs. But the hiss of the spray can startled the little cria. It leaped forward in fright. Wendy glanced up to see Dolly’s reaction. What she saw was Dolly pucker her llama lips and — that was the last thing Wendy saw for several minutes. A big gob of spit splatted her right in the face, burning her eyes and causing her to yelp in surprise.

Kyle quickly ripped off his T-shirt and handed it to Wendy to wipe away the spit, but he and Danny were laughing so hard they could hardly stand up.

“You guys!” Wendy howled. “Stop laughing! Llama spit is nasty.”

“Dolly didn’t do it on purpose!” Danny defended the mother llama.

“What do you mean she didn’t do it on purpose? She aimed right for my face!”

“She was just trying to protect Pumpkin,” Danny insisted. “It was that spraying sound. Maybe she thought it was a snake hissing.” He gazed at the cria, which Dolly had moved a few feet away from them. “If I had something that beautiful, I’d protect it, too.”

“You do, Danny.”

“Do what?”

“Have something that beautiful. After all,” Wendy reminded him, “Machu is the father, and Machu is yours. That means Pumpkin’s half yours.”