s e v e n i s a j o u r n e y

You know how, just before disaster strikes, how you get that split-second of clarity? That moment that allows you to find just the right profanity, before the end. I had one of those moments yesterday.

As a bit of prelude- we have put the boy-mob on the small back hill paddock (which, incidentally, we might call the “bog” paddock, cause it has one). This paddock has a stream. The stream was a new and scary thing for Heir, Piccocio, and Nabaztag. On Tuesday we got Heir and Pinnocio acorss with cornering and pushing. Two days later, Heir was still stuck on the other side, looking sad. So last night we put a halter and lead rope on him, intending to lead him back and forth across the stream until he “got it.”

I went across first, holding he lead intending to coax him over from the far side. The stream is only a meter wide. I was picking my way up the muddy bank on the far side, my back to Heir, when he launched. In his adrenaline-fueled enthusiasm, his accuracy was not very good, or perhaps it was all too good, depending on your perspective. Anyway, my awareness of impending doom came when I saw a little white fluffy foot and leg apear on either side of me. Not good! WHUMP!!! A full body tackle from a rather large and meaty alpaca hurled me to the ground. Thankfully onto soft earth, and not an impaling stump or jagged rock. That was a rather startling experience!

I got up, and led him back and forth a few more times. His jumping slowly got more coordinated as he got over the initial fear and adrenaline. This morning I get to check which side he is on, and if he has mastered that new skill on his own.