Surviving Spring

I'll just admit it; when it comes to the farm, and in particular, my girls, I'm a worrier. In spite of my penchant to obsess over well-being, we will all likely survive spring. Here's the backstory. Perception is truth, or at least that's what I tell my students. So my perception, hanging in the recesses of my memory that reaches into a year and a month ago (how medieval, that year and a day thing) is simple. Llamas are not like horses; if they lie down on their sides, they are ill or worse. The good news: I got the first half correct; that would be the llamas are not like horses part. The rest is mythic, I guess.

Sunday, after I hosted 27 picnic people, in a day that was otherwise perfect, truly (that one's for you, Brinson), I thought Monday would be my vacation day. Think again. The Princess lies down on top of hot inch-thick rubber, and then proceeds to sun bathe, on her side. Panic Button big time. Eventually, I called my breeder (she is approaching sainthood status) and she reassured me that llamas do that, and not to worry. I resumed regular breathing, and finally enjoyed the day. I will survive spring.