To go, or not to go.

Picture the scene.
I'm at the 'day job', it's somewhere between 1 and 2 in the morning. It's raining as I enter an unlit block of flats, a violent disorder has been reported. I am alone as the beam from my torch bounces off the walls of the long corridor. The floor is slippery and as my boots are wet I have to tread carefully so as not to fall over. At the end of the corridor the last door is ajar and there is the sound of a woman shouting hysterically at something or someone. I make my way carefully along the corridor steeling myself for what lies ahead. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing to attention as adrenalin rushes around my body. Out of habit I methodically pat my chest, checking that my handcuffs, baton and spray are where they should be and are ready to go. I look at the numbers on the doors as I pass them counting up from 1 towards the door at the end, number 12. The woman's shouting gets louder and louder as I approach, the language which was fruity as I entered has turned ugly and swear words are flowing freely, all shouted with feeling and a great deal of venom.
I am on full alert as my eyes look one way then the next, I can hear through my earpiece that back-up is 5 to 10 minutes away. I can hear a baby screaming from somewhere behind the door of number 8 as I pass and the muffled sounds of a parent trying to soothe him or her. My mind is racing as I arrive at the door of flat 12 and as I gently push it open several questions are simultaneously rushing around inside my head. Who is she shouting at? What has been going on? Who else is in the flat and how big are they? Shall I get my pepper spray out ready to give an attacker a faceful? Should we or should we not take a pregnant female to the Futurity?

No matter how hard I try, and I don't try very hard, I just can't stop thinking about alpacas and the year ahead. Is it just me? It can't be?

In case the suspense is too much for you........ the woman was shouting to her ex-boyfirend down the phone  who had got drunk and wet himself before plonking himself, much to her annoyance, on the her sofa. She had given him an earful and he had managed to run away before I arrived. She obviously thought he needed a bit more of an earbashing which was thoughtfully shared with everyone within a hundred yards.

Anyway the subject of my deliberation about which Sue and I have had a long discussion is how pregnant would an alpaca have to be before we decided not to take her to a show? Actually we have never taken a pregnant female to a show, never. But, many people do and I think if the female is naturally a calm animal and is used to going to shows, why not? We still haven't finalised our decision and it would only be the Futurity as it is so early in the season, but we are very tempted. The lady in question, Reeya, who would be 8 months pregnant at the time, is looking awesome!

Reeya, a Jack of Spades girl, with her mother, Dee, our oldest alpaca.