Show time!

Managed to bunk off early from work.

I'm loading up and heading off to Shepton Mallet this evening.

Its Show Time!!!!

Bath & West Show, panic and indecision strikes.

Well the mighty Bath & West Show is underway in somewhat wet conditions. Today apparently was fleece and junior Suri judging.

The Patou herd remains at home, drenched, really drenched.

The weather forecast says it may be drier tomorrow and Friday, but really, how often is the forecast right?



I know it's difficult predicting weather but quite frankly about a month ago I decided to discount weather forecasts altogether.



Now when the lovely Mrs Steele asks whether she should hang out the washing or not I walk outside, look skywards, pat my tummy and take a deep breath. The verdict is then relayed and washing is hung out, or not hung out. Usually right I might add.



Anyway my day job has been interfering terribly with preparations. Halter training for Patou Fifi has been very brief indeed. There will have to be a crash course on Friday at the Show ground, not ideal but she will be fine. I am bigger than her after all.



The main source of discussion at the moment is who will be staying overnight at the showground. I will be staying because my girls Poppy, Fifi and Lola together with Orchard Apollo are staying. My responsibility.



The problem is that we have our first cria of the year due soon.



Emma (pictured above on the right, with her best friend and half sister Sheba) will be 11 months pregnant on Saturday. We need to put her needs first. As a result we have decided that I will take the show team up on Friday morning alone.



Sue and Angus will come over for lunch as Emma's owner Sue Lucas will check on her in the afternoon.



Then it gets complicated. I am staying in the tent. As to who goes home when at the moment it is anyones guess. Angus wants to stay in the tent, I thought initially to be with his Dad for a male bonding type thing. Alright I know he's only 5 but a man can dream.



That particular dream was shattered today when he announced that he just wanted to stay in the tent and didn't really care who else was there!



So it's all up in the air. The day job has me in its clutches until about 6pm tomorrow so there will be a large session of organising tomorrow evening.

Luckily I have predicted dry weather so thats good. I think?

Hard work but I'm cool.

I have been absent from the blogspot for a few days mainly due to having to work at the day job.

I have just changed jobs and the shifts are longer, the travelling time is longer but a new and exciting challenge it is. As a result I have been a bit busy.

I have also been hard at work preparing our birthing paddock. After several hours of strimming (another sunburnt pate) it is finally finished and the first batch of pregnant girls are now enjoying the new grass in the paddock right by the house. The rest of the girls together with the 'gutbucket' boys are out in the main field. The boys have had their second dose of BTV8 vaccine and everything seems cool here.

I am also cool, apparently. One day after school this week (no I don't go to school, Angus does) Angus and I were engaged in yet another tense game of football.

Well I say game of football, thats not not strictly true. For starters I am nearly always in goal. So it's really just me standing in goal as the 5 and a half year old blasts the ball at me from all angles. Yes, that boy can hoof a ball. He will rack up fifteen goals and then when he's tired he will allow me into the outfield. He then assumes the role of goalkeeper.

Then, there is a mysterious change in the rules of the game.

These are mainly designed so that I don't score any goals. I am not allowed to shoot from anywhere near the goal net. No, I must be a speck on the horizon before I am allowed to shoot.

If he so much as touches the ball that counts as a save. Even if it brushes past him and ripples the back of the net it doesn't count. He has touched the ball therefore he has saved it and it is no goal.

If he doesn't touch the ball and it goes in, (you would think it was a goal wouldn't you?) it isn't a goal either as he wasn't ready. Even if I ask 'Are you ready?' and he replies that he is, any subsequent goal can be disallowed due to suddenly not being ready again.

As a result I lose every time. In fact I get well and truly stuffed and am 'rubbish' at football, apparently. That boy has one strong competitive streak.

Anyway, he was asking me if this shot or that shot was cool.

If the ball bounced off him and went somewhere near where it was supposed to, it became a 'cool' trick shot. If I made a good save it was hailed as 'cool'.

Now 'cool' is not an expression he has used much before. It is relatively new so I explored his understanding of the word and we had a conversation about what and who was 'cool'.

I then asked him who was the coolest person in the world, thinking it would be a sportsman or a school chum or Batman or Spiderman or Captain Fantastic or some other 'cool' person.

But no. Stand by for heartmelting moment folks.

Without hesitation my wonderful son said "You are Dad".

I was lost for words.....................almost started blubbing.

Those readers with children will understand the relationship between parent and child, the immense love involved and the incredible unbreakable bond that develops.

But the depth and strength of these emotions constantly surprises me.

That little boy is everything to Sue and I and we are doing our best to bring him up the right way with respect and compassion for others and a healthy, confident and content view on life.

All three of us are learning as we go along and it is a truly wonderful journey.

I guess I'll be getting slaughtered at football again later.

No problem for me. Well, he is the coolest person I know.

Lardy, lardier, lardiest.

Another general herd check day today.

They were all rounded up and given a thorough going over.

I am a little paranoid about the health of our alpacas at the moment and want to be the first to know if there is anything wrong with any of them. We had a couple of pre-birth Lambivacs to do so it seemed like a good time for a check up.

Condition scoring, jawline checking, ears, eyes, teeth and toes all had a close examination.

Conclusion? A right old bunch of fatties.

That's right the Patou herd is a bit lardy. A bit too lardy in places. A bit too lardy indeed.

As a result, all feeding, bar camelibra, has been stopped. There is obviously enough fresh green lush grass out there to fill up their little tummies and get them putting on the pounds.

We use the 1 to 5 condition score and reckon that a pregnant female (after weaning) should be a good 3. Well let me tell you there are a few out there that left 3, way, way behind. As I went through the herd one by one Sue wrote down the facts.

The good news is that no-one, not even the habitually skinny ones scored less than three. For the first time as far as I can remember there were no 2 and a half's. That's great for the skinny ones who are now scoring 3.

However, there is a certain portion of the herd, and I will say that it is a small portion (is portion the right word here, I think not) that is positively lardy. Two of the matriarchs of the herd were challenging the top end of a 1 to 5 scale............................ seriously.................. they are fat.

As for the boys, Jake in particular, I was even more shocked. I held Jake, our big 'scaredy cat' wether and reached under and patted his huge stomach. It was a familiar sound.

Now I know that some people say that pet owners, be it dog cat or whatever can start to look like their pets, I have even seen photographs that back up this claim. Well here in Patouland I think the reverse might be happening.

I have a sneaking suspicion that the Patou herd is starting to look like me.

The first sign of a bald head out there and we are in big trouble!

New power tool and a visit from the big boys.

Firstly may I say that Valley Farm Emma who caused us so much concern on Thursday and Friday appears to be fully recovered. We don't know what was wrong with her despite four vets having a prod and a poke. We just know that whatever it was has now gone away. Splendid, it can stay away, its not nice

On Saturday my Heiniger shearing machine together with several combs and cutters arrived from the Lake District. What a mean machine it looks I can't wait to get stuck in. I only ordered it on Thursday so was very pleased, what splendid service from Highway Shearing, everything sharpened, oiled and ready to go.

I just need to get my 'alpaca stretching out' kit sorted and I'll be ready to learn from the wise one. Apparently I need a Shawshank pulley with a reverse triple salco, or something. It sounded complicated and although I tried to remember it, it just went in one ear and out the other.

A bit of rope and some wood, I remembered that bit. Oh yes and a lower back made of iron and a cold beer for afterwards.....mmmmmmm sounds good.

Today we visited Incaland and picked up two of the big boys, Atlantic Cambridge Centurion (multi award winning I should add) and Shute Farm Boris who is turning into my favourite stud male. He's great, a big old unit and a bit of a go getter and a big soft pudding to boot.

We carried out a spit off up the road for Liz Curzen, a very convincing spit off from young Connie and then home where Patou Bobby continued to spit spectacularly at everything.

She just looked at poor old Boris and let fly like some sort of wild spinning mint sauce fountain that has gone very very wrong. I unfortunately had to enter the 'spitzone' to rescue Boris who quite frankly wasn't looking very impressed at all. Still Bobby didn't keep her pregnancy last year so it's looking good so far, only another 9 and a half months to go then.

Tisbury Bella however still need some Boris love which he naturally provided. They actually looked a lovely couple as you can see.

They had just 'finished' in this shot and are both looking ever so slightly embarrassed.

Centurion himself was looking superb...............but then, he always does.

All good news, none bad.

Well after last night I was half expecting a dead alpaca this morning. However, young Emma was very much alive this morning but still not quite right.


We had given her a painkilling injection and a muscle relaxing drug at 9.00am but by 2.00pm she was still showing mild discomfort.
A whole world away from the pain she was in last night but the vet said she should have been fully recovered by now.


Dilemma time. What to do next. I spoke again to Sue (Emma's owner) and filled her in on the details. I spoke to the vet again who was suggesting taking Emma to The School of Veterinary Science at Bristol (apologies if that is not the correct title).
To be honest if it had been one of my alpacas, erring on the side of caution I would have loaded up and been on my way.


To cut a long boring story short we didn't go to Bristol. After many phone calls we went to an equine hospital just outside Salisbury where Emma was given a real good going over by three vets, one of them an alpaca specialist.


Everything they tested for or looked for appeared normal. It was all good news. They brought a posh scanner type machine in and we could see that Emma's cria was very much alive and kicking but not ready to come out yet. The cria was still up near the ribs and the vulva was only partially elongated (is that a technical term?)


As a result Emma is now back here within the folds of the mighty Patou herd. She is still giving signs that she is experiencing discomfort but is eating well.

We are on a wait and see approach which is all we can do.

I am thinking very positively and I think this particular story will have a happy ending.

Other news; The Bath and West show is back on! I know it was going ahead anyway but now it will be in the protection zone. Bad news I suppose for those in the surveillance zone but good news for us. Oops must get on with some halter training!

A night of worry ahead.

After yesterdays light hearted drivel on this blog we were brought back to earth with a bump today. I was out with the alpacas this afternoon topping up hay feeders and just watching generally. The herd seemed its usual self, no odd behaviour.

A few minutes later whilst I was still outside I noticed Valley Farm Emma behaving strangely. She is the first due to give birth so we always look out for her first when checking the herd.

She kept lying on her side flat out with her head arching over her back. She was obviously in pain.
Within an hour of the first symptoms the vet was here and investigations began.
Our first thought was that she was in labour. She is 10 and a half months pregnant and a first timer, we thought there was a problem with the unborn cria.

After a thorough going over the vet diagnosed colic. A word that never sounds good. Colic apparently can come in many forms and can be fatal.

As a result Emma has been given painkillers, antibiotics, muscle relaxants and something else which escapes me at the moment. We have done everything we can do for Emma at the present.

The vet left some drugs for us and we will be injecting Emma again at half past midnight and again first thing in the morning.

She is in our field shelter with her best friend Sheba and plenty of dry warm straw, water and some hay. We are checking on her condition hourly and we hope with all our hearts that the drugs have the desired effect.

Angus has even said a prayer. I'm not much of a believer these days but I might just say a little one myself.