Dolores

Dolores was, in a word, difficult. But that’s how she liked it. She came to us with an attitude. But she had potential. Over time, we built a truce. She’d allow me to brush her neck without complaint. Sometimes she’d even follow me along the fence, humming gently, which is as close as llamas get to affection. She had this grand presence. Kids loved her because she looked like a cartoon. Everyone respected her because she never put up with nonsense. She had a distinct walk, regal and lazy all at once. And when the alpacas annoyed her, she’d give them a look of such disdain, I wish I could’ve bottled it. She lived a long, full life. When her joints started failing, we did everything we could to keep her comfortable. She passed in the early morning. Dolores wasn’t a cuddly pet. But she was brilliant. And she is missed.