The Shepherd's Eye

A shepherd must be in harmony with their animals and the environment. Alpacas will tell their secrets; your eye is the medium of conversation. The shepherd’s eye can sort the sick by simply observing which of their friends are not in harmony with the flock. When a cria lies down with her siblings but stays behind when the others seek their mother’s milk, beware. If a pregnant female lingers away from the herd and seeks her tail, be alert. When your herdsire shakes his head and rubs his side to the fence, think about parasites.

An alpaca shepherd must train their eye. You need to learn which of your animals are healthy, of higher quality, dense, fine, pregnant, skinny, fat, afflicted by diarrhea or anemic. The surest way to do this is to seek anomalies. Do they all move at the same speed; is one slow or lame; does another appear gaunt; are their gums deep pink or white? Your eye will guide your hand to the trouble. A sick animal will often be emaciated beneath their fleece, an infected animal hot to the touch. An alpaca with vitamin deficiencies will take tender steps and moan when your hand presses their joints. These perfect creatures are stoic and rarely complain, yet they reveal everything to the shepherd’s eye.

When I first began caring for alpacas, I had never given an injection, diagnosed a disorder or cared for a sick animal. My father would walk through the pasture and say, “That one has ear mites” or, “This female will have her baby tomorrow,” or he might say, “We need to call a vet on that gal, she hasn’t been moving well this week and I haven’t seen her get up this morning.” Next Dad might say, “Look at that dung pile. Someone in here has diarrhea.” At first I was amazed by his powers of perception but as time went on my eye was trained and I too became a shepherd.

Caring for alpacas is mostly common sense. Move slowly and speak softly. Let them move first, extend your hand and let them smell your scent. They will learn to trust your intent. At the end of the day take a book into the pasture and read, the alpaca’s natural curiosity will train them to you.

I remember standing around a propane heater in the freezing fall of Charlevoix, Michigan, in the early 1990s. I was chatting with Roger Haldane, the man most people credit with creating the Australian alpaca industry. Roger is a quiet man and his economy with words is in contrast to mine. He has raised prize winning Merino sheep, mohair goats and milking buffalo. I was going on about how much alpacas had changed my life, from twenty years as a home builder and land developer, to farmer.

Roger listened patiently and when I was done detailing my new found joy with alpacas, he observed, “Well mate, I think God meant all of us to be shepherds.” I have never forgotten Roger’s wise words.

Being a shepherd to our alpacas requires that we slow down and take into account the details of their lives. We need to know if the grass is growing fast enough. Are the individual leaves the right strength of green? Is the cria warm? Does her mother welcome her nursing? Is the water fresh and the fence mended? Does the herd hum or silently chew their cuds?

A shepherd’s existence is different from most other pursuits. In many people’s lives the world revolves around them. In a shepherd’s world the center of attention is the animals and the fields. Nature sets the pace.

In Peru, women often care for the alpaca. It is little wonder; a woman’s eye knows her child is sick before the doctor does and she knows who is hungry and who hurts. There is a feminine side to managing the flock. It is not by mistake that we have midwives instead of midmen.

At the end of the day, after we have built our barns, fences and planted the grass, it is the eye of the shepherd that will determine our success with alpacas. To make the perfect mating or birth a healthy cria and nurture it to maturity you need the shepherd’s eye.