We had alpacas until recently.
I often wondered what was so bad about alpaca spit, after all they’re grass eaters – herbivores and after the amount of vomit coming from my children as they grew from breastfed babes to fully fledged carnivores, I thought there was no possible way a bit of regurgitated grass could be that bad.
But imagine the worst halitosis in a solid form and you’re edging close to the experience.
Imagine the up close smell of the carpet in a bar on a Sunday morning. Imagine the public toilet that time forgot. Worse than that? Oh indeedy, yes! It is the smell of grass brought through the very pits of Hell, collecting some more unsavoury characteristics along the way and becoming rotted and maggoty in the process. And when it is spat into the back of your hair, it tends to stick with you like white on rice until you can shower it out. I used to feel very unconcerned when an alpaca made that choking, hawking sound around me before, but you should see me wince and back up when I hear the throaty threat now.
The day we sold them, we were pushing two up into a horse float so that they could be driven to their new owners, and our family favorite “Pinky” turned around and gave Stepford Husband a goodbye gift. Right in the face. Like, over his nostrils and mouth. Believe me when I say that Stepford Husband used some very colorful language between gagging, that translated to: ‘Well, fellows, I’m not as sad to see you leaving as I thought I would be initially. Have a nice life, you, er fellows!”
I wanted to go over and give him a comforting hug – after all, the first time he was seeing his babies leave and one of them spits in his face. But peeeeeyoooooo!! Instead I stayed way over the other side of the horse float. I did give him a sympathetic smile. But it may have come off more like repressed laughter. All I’m saying is I meant well but I wasn’t getting anywhere near him or the mouths of hell that did that to him.
Those alpacas may look pretty, but when they spit – that smell gets in your nostrils like dog pooh on a shoe and here’s the real evil: you get a strong whack up the nose of it all day. Even after you know it’s gone.
Just so you know.