Ya’ll this post is completely unnecessary. I just have to get it out.
There are two animals I hate most in this world. Frogs and Llamas. Both thanks to traumatizing events my sweet Memaw provided me with twenty years ago on a two-week summer visit my parents shipped me and my brother off on.
First of all, let me tell you the story of why I hate llamas.
My Memaw took me to her brother’s farm down the highway to see the goats one summer afternoon. It just so happened that a few weeks before some of the goats had babies. There is nothing cuter than a baby goat! Especially for a ten-year-old girl. My grandmother thought it would make our day if we could catch a baby goat. The only problem was, the goats were not comfortable with humans because my great uncle didn’t go out to play or feed them on a regular basis. I don’t even know if he had a use for them, however, he threw a huge llama in the field with them to “protect” the goats.
Who trains llamas to attack? Where does this come from?
Memaw knew this but told me it would be okay, that it was only meant to run off other animals from eating the goats. So, here we go running through the field trying to capture one baby goat for me to play with. Nevermind the goats were running for their lives. Their fear of capture was as comical as my kids are when I jump out and scare them.
Memaw corraled one baby in a corner near the old dilapidated barn when the huge beast rounded the corner of the building. The llama turned its neck searching for the predator attempting to kill one of its villagers. Of course, I’m standing in the middle of the field and become the target. I looked to my grandmother for guidance. Her head turning from the llama to me, calculating what’s about to occur. The llama bolted out from behind the barn and straight for me before she’s able to do anything. I screamed and turned to run. Run where I had no idea. I’m helpless in a field; the other side of the fence my only cover.
I remember three things as I ran for my life, sure as a ten-year-old can be of death, I was about to be attacked by a llama. 1. The sun was really hot. 2. The sound of a llama galloping behind me sounded like the beating drum of an Indian tribe about to make a sacrifice. 3. Memaw screaming, “Run for the gate!” I ran for the gate, but not before looking behind me to see how much clearance I had from the trampling llama.
Just like the story of Lot’s wife in Genesis, I shouldn’t have looked back. My heart dropped, I couldn’t breathe, and I knew I was going to go down. The llama’s jaw hung open, saliva hanging from its angry lips. Its eyes bulged out with fury; it did not want me in its pen. My poor old memaw was gaining ground on the llama. She was running, well more like hobbling after us, persistently screaming her directive orders.
I was right at the gate. We left it ajar. I hit the heavy metal bar, swinging it open far enough for me to squeeze through. I turned and slammed the gate shut. The llama’s bulk came to a screeching halt, causing its fur to shake all over its body. Memaw ducked under the bob-wire fence, joining me on the side of sanity. The llama turned its agitated head to the watching goats and to my grandmother ambling towards me.
To this day, when I go to a zoo and see a llama all I see is a charging beast. I’d still pet one, and they don’t seem as big now as it did towering behind me twenty years ago.
How are llama’s haunting me you may ask? Companies seem to think llamas must be the next big thing! I see them everywhere. This past new year I bought some pajamas. When I got home and put them on my husband asked what was on them. I did not pay attention when I bought them because the store was crazy and I was trying to grab what I could and get out. Surely enough, tiny llamas printed all over the fabric.
A few weeks ago, I was snap chatting with my kids because they were cranky and snap chat always entertains them. A freaking llama filter was what they found most captivating! ( I uploaded it to youtube because WordPress won’t let me upload a video without purchasing a plan)
Lastly, on a recent Target run, we come across a llama wall mount. Who the heck mounts a stuffed toy llama head on their kid’s wall? Creepy and hilarious, I had to take a picture. Sure enough, my daughter loved it. I did not.
What’s with the llamas? Next thing I know companies are going to start selling frog everything. Then I will have nightmares about cleaning bullfrogs and their flour-covered appendages hopping out from the frying pan trying to take their revenge.
There, it’s out. Maybe now they will stop haunting me.