LLAMA AND ALPACA AUCTION

CHRISTCHURCH, NOVEMBER 1989

By Janette Buckingham

         Thursday, 9 November, 1989 was the turning point, when I finally realised my dream of owning camelids. And that was only made possible because the auction was clearly a buyer’s market. Nothing much was said by the vendors, but we gathered that the unreserved prices were not up to their expectations. If they had been, in all probability I wouldn’t have been the happy new owner of a male and a female llama-guanaco, with a 5 day old cria. Although there was llama breeding in the guanacos offered at the auction, our animals would appear to have a fair dollop of guanaco in them. I dropped the L-G term some time ago, as it tended to be confusing to visitors and those who were new to the camelid scene.

 The day of the auction was a typically hot Canterbury nor’wester. Enduring that along with the long drive to Christchurch, was compounded by the uncertainty of the situation – not knowing whether we would be buying one, half a dozen, or no llamas at all. It depended on the prices. But one thing was certain: if the whole or combined price of what we wanted was over $6,000, including transport down to Southland, then it was no go. The Canterbury-based stock firm Pyne Gould Guinness had imported a number of camelids— llamas, llama/guanacos and alpacas. These animals had been sourced from established breeders in Europe, and arrived in New Zealand in 1986. Some of the original stock had been sold during the next two years. In keeping with the company policy, PGG made a move to hold the “first ever public auction of Camelids in New Zealand” as quoted from the message from Jill Spring, the first secretary of Alpaca and Llama Association of N.Z. (ALANZ) in the sale catalogue. On arrival at the Pyne Gould Guinness farm, Insignis Park, at Ryans Road, Christchurch, I was struck by how up-market the atmosphere was. Compared with our hitherto informal visits to Insignis  Park to talk to the farm manager, Steve Williams, and to look at the Llamas and Alpacas, many people were dressed up for the early evening occasion, and the air was humming with expectation – the 44 llamas and alpacas were in their pens behind the selling arena, humming with apprehension. The selling arena was packed, and a marquee had been set up next to it with the sound system wired in. We were given sale catalogues, a purchases number (ours was No 7, I still have it) and made our way “backstage” to view the performers.

To me it seemed unreal. I had spent nearly three years of dreaming of owning a herd to provide me with my very own fibre for spinning and weaving. Three years of having my expectations built up one day and dashed the next. Voraciously reading every scrap of information I could find, and spending hours making phone calls to establish some contacts. And now it was all happening and I didn’t dare think of what the outcome might be. Fortunately the time passed quickly while we were inspecting the animals, or in my case, talking to acquaintances I had made at the first ALANZ meeting earlier that year at Flock House, Bulls, plus others from Southland. Maybe I sounded like something of an authority on the animals, but it was only because I had soaked up every piece of written material like a sponge. Like any “special” occasion, everything happened in a blur. All too soon, the auction began and we found seats in the rapidly-filling arena. The llamas and alpacas were herded into their individual selling lots in the ring and the bidding started. The other half had warned me that he would take care of my bidding and sat through the proceedings with a face bereft of expression. He didn’t move a muscle as each lama had its time in the ring. The llama prices were very favourable for the buyers, and I felt like screaming with frustration, “why in the hell did we bother to come?” In fact I was watching him more than I was watching the animals. Almost halfway through the sale, at Lot 20 a female llama/guanaco was herded into the ring, and behind her one of the helpers carried a gorgeous 5 day old pale cream cria. The crowd went “Ahhhhhhh.” The bidding started, and my heart nearly stopped….. the other half was doing  the bidding!! I couldn’t look, I didn’t dare hope for the outcome…. But yes! Suddenly at $4,100 the female and her baby were ours! And those who knew us were turning around and smiling their congratulations. Those who didn’t know us were turning around to look anyway. Truly, this was the moment I will never forget, what a breakthrough…. In just a few moments I had  become a Llama owner. It felt like an elevated status! But it seemed like the other half was not finished. Basking in the euphoria (probably fatigue) that I felt, I hadn’t noticed that he was bidding on another llama/GUANACO. With the flash of a purchaser’s ticket, we were the proud owners of a handsome stud male for $550! I have had many exciting moments as my herd of llamas has enlarged and improved over the last 15 years, but few occasions could have equalled the joy of buying these first three animals at the auction. After much deliberation in the following weeks, I was to name my female lama ‘Beatrix’, her little son ‘Harold’, and the male

‘Shaun’. After the sale  finished, a barbecue and drinks were laid on by the PPG team. I had had some business cards printed with ‘Llamoid Fibrecraft’ on them (this was changed to Thickthorne Llamas in 2000) and handed these out to people I knew. This was not too presumptuous, as I had already been spinning and weaving with alpaca fibre bought from the Christchurch ‘Hands’ handcraft shop. Their fibre was beautiful (bought from overseas I would think) but never seemed to go far enough – in hindsight I was spinning it too thickly – but now I had my own source of fibre. The crowd soon dispersed and as mentioned before, the PGG team weren’t quite as jubilant as I was with the outcome of the sale. In spite of this, I think they were pleased for me and the other purchasers.

Cheers Janette

Editors Note: What follows are extracts from the PGG auction catalogue and the results from Janette’s handwritten notes. Keep in mind while reading that this was written 15 years ago.

Introduction

Pyne Gould Guinness Ltd has arranged for this unreserved sale by auction of 44 camelids. This auction is a first for NZ and a rare opportunity to 'get in on the ground floor' of an exciting new pastoral industry. The Camelid family includes Llama and Alpaca, as well as the llama/alpaca cross, known as the huarizo and the llama/guanaco cross, all of which are represented at this sale. These animals originated from Europe and Chile, making this sale probably the most diverse ever held. The llama/guanaco cross combines the intelligence, inquisitiveness, strength and domestication of the llama with the clean points and extremely fine fibre (18-20 microns) of the guanaco. Guanacos are a protected wild species of camelid in South America, and now they are a prohibited export. The llama-guanaco cross was introduced to NZ early this century. This is a multi-purpose breed. It is ideally suited for training as a pack animal, is extremely sure-footed, and does not need to be shorn. Camelids make good family pets and are easily trained to halter and lead. An exciting new fine fibre industry is now a prospect, especially with the importation by Agricola Resources Ltd of some one thousand animals earlier this year.

Babies are known as cria, and are cute and very photogenic. As well as being the basis for a new pastoral industry, alpacas and llamas are ideal additions to model farms, game parks, tourist centres and other tourist ventures such as trekking. Stud breeding of llamas and alpacas in other countries, particularly North America, has become very sophisticated, with animals being bred for fibre fineness, colour, conformation, temperament and a range of other market specific criteria. Demand for llamas and alpacas has steadily risen, hardly surprising, since there are only 3000 alpacas and 30,000 llamas outside South America.

The Alpaca and Llama Association of New Zealand (Inc) have pleasure in supporting the first ever public auction of Camelids in New Zealand, and congratulate Pyne Gould Guinness for the initiative taken in this regard.

Although Alpacas and Llamas have been farmed in this country for some years, it is only recently that significant numbers have been imported and the Alpaca and Llama Association sees this event as the forerunner to a new and exciting alternative to the rural scene.

Jill Spring (Secretary) Alpaca and Llama Association of NZ Inc.

Vendors

Pyne Gould Guinness Ltd (PGG)

           Responding to an expressed interest by a number of clients, Pyne Gould Guinness initiated an involvement in camelids in early 1985. The feature of fine fibre production for the fashion clothing market from an easily domesticated animal appeared attractive.

           As no health protocol was established for exportation at that time with South America, animals were sourced from established breeders in Europe. The initial purchase on behalf of Pyne Gould Guinness was made in 1985 and eventually arrived in NZ in 1986.

Since that time the animals have been farmed at Insignis Park under the management of Mr Steve Williams who has successfully handled all aspects of their husbandry. The original base stock have produced progeny some of which are being offered today. Others have been sold to interested parties in Australia and NZ during the past two years. In keeping with company policy, a decision has been made to disperse the herd and conduct this Unreserved Sale for Llamas and Alpacas and it is with pleasure we present the animals for auction and wish intending purchasers every success with their investment.

Rockpool Farm – B & J Bassett-Smith (Rockpool)

Bryan and Jocelyn Bassett-Smith recently bought Rockpool Farm, in Pleasant Point, South Canterbury, where they farm 700 alpacas for Agricola Resources, as well as their own herd of wapiti and wapiti-cross deer. They have been involved in camelids for some 15 years. They previously owned Hadlow Game Park in Timaru where they bred llama-guanaco cross animals, as well as many other rare and exotic breeds.

Caesar’s story

By Elise Atkinson October ‘04

         In mid-January this year my friend’s male llama, Caesar, returned to my place to live, as he had been living alone in Motueka.  He is a bottle-raised boy, about 10 years old, extremely polite and very special. I have always loved him.

         We did the usual—T.B. testing, shearing, 5/1, drenching, and he lived in a paddock next to the other males for two weeks before being integrated into the herd. That all went smoothly when it happened. It was as if he had never left.

One Saturday evening in March, I let the boys into the driveway to eat it out a bit. In the morning I went to check the stock, and Caesar was down by the road, not pacing the fenceline closest to where the girls were, as was usual.  I should point out here that the two top machos, Gus and Sambuca,   tolerate Caesar pacing the fenceline, but no one else is allowed close to it. They seem to know that Caesar isn’t a ‘real’ llama, he’s one of those bottle-raised things that ignore many of the paddock protocols and is really no threat to their prowess! Let him pace…..

Caesar wasn’t looking too happy, and was reluctant to move. He was stiff as if he had pulled some muscles, or something. My immediate thought was that Zimmy had had a crack at him. Zim had been testing the waters a bit, and was being a real bully to everyone, except the two established top boys. He is a BIG boy, over 200 kgs. I shut the other boys back in their paddock, by which time Caesar had hobbled up the drive. I put him into the orchard on his own. Watching him over the day, he grazed a bit, watched what was going on, chatted to me but didn’t want me anywhere near his back end. From a distance I could see that his right haunch seemed bunched up, and he was putting almost no weight at all on his back right leg.  When I saw him trying to sit down, and unable to do so, I called Vaughan Seed (vet).  “Maybe it is more than pulled muscles” I thought, but I must admit that I was really feeling there was a break somewhere.

Vaughan’s immediate statement was that there was definitely a break, or more than one, which is why Caear’s haunches appeared bunched. The break had caused the muscles to retract and there was nothing to keep the muscles stretched. That horrible adrenalin-type rush that makes you feel so ill, and which had been sneaking about all day, hit me like a brick. This special animal who had come here to have better quality of life, was going to have his life taken away. That was my first thought, that I couldn’t allow him to be in pain.  I looked at him, and he was busy watching what was going on in the other paddock, ears forward. Then he continued to graze.  How could this be? He looked fine! He wasn’t depressed, he was eating as many nuts as I’d give him out of my hand, he just seemed a bit uncomfortable when he walked, and couldn’t kush.

Vaughan said he would come tomorrow, knock Caesar out and X-ray him. And that he’d be able to have a really good look at him while he was down. He gave him an anti-inflammatory and antibiotic, and said we could discuss ‘options’  (gulp) after the X-ray.

In the morning I expected to find this boy ‘down’ in every sense of the word. I had checked him overnight several times, and he’d simply seemed puzzled as to what I was doing. I gave him another antibiotic and anti-inflammatory (orally) which didn’t impress him much. Then I went to work. Came home at morning tea and lunch time, just to see he was okay. He was. He was just grazing, and watching the world go by, his demeanour was quite normal.

Vaughan came that evening,  gave Caesar a general anaesthetic and X-rayed him. We helped him go down gently when the GA started to take effect. I’d called my friend Leslie to come and help. She is a llama owner and lover, and has a lovely peaceful way about her. My concern was that Caesar wouldn’t be able to get up again. We X-rayed from all angles, and Vaughan was able to tell that there were a number of breaks. He did a thorough check over while Caesar was ‘out to it’. After 40 minutes or so, he started to stir a bit, and we could see that he wanted to stay in this place with no pain! He’d stretch out his head, and close his eyes again, and it crossed my mind that we should perhaps simply give him a few more  drugs, and let him sleep on, and on, and on. But then he’d open an eye again, and look at us. I voiced this thought aloud, and Vaughan’s reaction was to not be too hasty.  Leslie’s was that he had a wonderful ‘energy’ (my little hippy buddy!) and she felt he would be okay. 

We left Caesar to get himself up (we hoped) while we had a coffee and rang Penny, Caesar’s ‘mum’, with the latest.  And were able to tell her before we rang off, that we could see Caesar had gotten himself up somehow, and was grazing in the orchard again.

         Next evening Vaughan arrived back with the developed X-ray.  I had been feeling pretty hopeful about this boy being okay ‘til I saw the damage that had been done. From hip to knee there were 5 ‘spiral’ breaks. The femur was not only broken into 6 separate non-aligned pieces, it was also totally shattered in parts, and bone fragments could be seen throughout the leg muscles. I could see that Vaughan was feeling as if there was little hope, which was exactly as I felt.

But we looked, and there was Caesar in the orchard, grazing and watching with ears forward, the other llama antics going on in the paddocks. Scoffing as many nuts as he could bludge off me, quite a few!  But also by now, the 4^th or 5^th day since the incident, he was walking on the leg, very carefully, but putting a bit of weight on it.

“He shouldn’t be doing that,” commented Vaughan. But what do you do? Can you put a llama in traction for months? We discussed treatment options. Something had to be done. We did discuss traction. 

We discussed operating and placing metal rods and plates, which would probably have to be re-done later on, and maybe every few years, and were not always successful. And very expensive.

  We discussed amputation. And this seemed to be the direction we would take. Unless we euthanized. We went round and around all of these for hours, over the next week. And we’d look at Caesar in the orchard, grazing. And the only time he grizzled was when I’d squirt antibiotics and anti-inflammatories

down his neck morning and night. And he hated me feeling the bottom of his right leg and foot, making sure they were warm, and that he still had feeling in it.  One of the concerns was that the nerves had been damaged, and that he would lose feeling in the leg. Secondly, that the blood supply was interrupted, and that necrosis of the tissues and bones would occur.  In this case the leg would need to be taken off fast!  Vaughan, who works at Massey, had them on alert should I call. 

After a couple of weeks of this, Vaughan was able to assure me that if either of these things were to occur, it would have happened by now. But we still had this dilemma, what were we going to do? This llama with a severely damaged and broken back leg had to have some kind of treatment, other than the drugs I was giving him… didn’t he? Despite the fact that by now he was walking with seemingly full weight on the leg and had never been depressed, and was still extremely interested in life. 2-3 weeks had gone by, a decision had to be made.

“Do nothing.”

“Pardon?”

“Do nothing” replied Vaughan. “And see if he continues to improve.” I could tell that this idea kind of went ‘against the grain’ a bit, as it did with me. It didn’t seem right, neglectful even, but we couldn’t deny what was walking around in front of us. As if nothing much had happened. I told Vaughan that I had been saying to people for years that these animals are amazingly stoic, but I never thought they were this tough! Both of us felt this sense of amazement that maybe Caesar would be okay with absolutely no treatment, other than drugs. I drenched him morning and night for 5 weeks, with antibiotics/anti-inflammatories, and added bits and pieces daily variably, so as not overdose on anything—vits ADE, calcium, nutrimol, glucosomine and chondroitin. By the end of the 5^th week I had a real job to catch him, he was galloping around the orchard and has continued to gallop and canter about the place.

Caesar is still living in a paddock alone, but eventually will go back in with the boys. I’ve decided to give it a year, and then maybe get him X-rayed again, both for interest, and for peace of mind that he is healed. But he stands on his broken leg to scratch with his other leg just like a real llama. And he loves to be taken for walks.

Zimmy is also separated from the rest of the boys.  I have tried him back in with them, but he is too big to be allowed to bully to the extent that he does.  I am really against running males separately and have never done so before.

After Caesar was hurt I went around the paddock looking for any sign of what may have happened.  I found an area on one of the small hills where there had clearly been a ruckus, and where there is a large rock poking out of the ground. In my mind I can see that Zim would have bowled Caesar as he climbed the hill. Caesar would have been watching the gals and not even seen him coming.  Once he was down, Zim must have continually slammed down onto him smashing more bones in his leg against the rock with each slam.

Caesar hates Zimmy with a passion. I tried leading Zim through Caesar’s paddock a while ago, as a short cut. Lovely quiet Caesar attacked him with a vengeance and he wasn’t going to stop, and didn’t until I had dragged Zimmy back to the yards. Even when he is in sight, Caesar paces with his ears back, spitting and head up. It is obvious that it is Zimmy who hurt Caesar so badly.