Last week, I went on a trip to an Alpacas farm.
There were 22 of us on the bus. We left here around eight for the long drive out into the hilly country to reach the farm.
The owner had set up a tent, tables, and chairs, for us to have morning tea there once we had visit with all the Alpacas. He talked about them, and the wool they produce. The awards he's recent'y one at his last showing of the animals. We were allowed to pat them.
The first question I was asked when I said where I'd been was, "Did they spit at you?"
No. The animals were very well behaved. The owner treated them like family members.
A little black one was born three days before we arrived.