They're in Oklahoma. Fair enough, enjoy the drive, love, I'll have a mancation and eat pizza and play ESO.

She wants someone to help drive, because otherwise she'll be too worn out after the siz hour drive to help with the shearing.

Guh.

So I arranged my day off to be on that day, we woke up early, I drove for six hours, we got to the place.

A baby alpaca had just been born when we arrived, perhaps two hours old, and covered in mud - his mom had very poor aim.

First we rounded up the alpacas out of the herd that belonged to the person we were helping - she'd point one out, we'd grab the alpaca and ptu a halter onit, then tie it to the fence.

Then they were led one by one to a tarp for shearing.

three people would wrestle it to the ground. I quickly figured that it would be helpful if I then darted forward and grabbed a hind leg.

Then straps put around each ankle and winched tight, hind legs pulled back, forelegs forward, to stretch the alpaca out.

Some were passive about it, some grumbled, but only one tried to spit: smelly green slime with part-chewed grass, eww.

The shearer knelt by it's belly, and first the "blenket" would be shorn off, and we'd be kneeling by the alpaca's back to "catch" the fleece and stuff it in a bag.

The blanket's the bit on the back that looks loveliest

Then another bag for all the rest.

The alpaca then gets hooves snipped and teeth trimmed with a dremel.

Well, actually that happened just before the shearing each one, while we were getting its bags and labeling them. I think they also gave them all shots while they were at it.

Then we'd back off as the straps were undone, then rush forward again to clean up the sweepings. We couldn't get all of them though, so there'll be a lot of very warm birds' nests there soon.

We did that about 20 times, they were very appreciative of our work (it was a lot of running and getting up and down and moving quickly, and they were all in their 60s, so we youngsters were very appreciated).

My wife got a fleece, and we left for her sister's, a couple hours drive away, for a shower and a bed to crash in.

Then in the morning, woke at 7, drive the 6 hours back (wife drove the first half of that though), and staggered thankfully back into the house, me with an armload of bedding and overnight bags and whatnot.

"Shit" she said. Then she started yelling at me because I dropped her blanket. I was too tired to realize for a moment that she was yelling because the floor was indeed covered in shit.

A dog had assploded. A big dog. A very well-fed English Mastiff living in the front room had apparently had tummy troubles. Very recently. And the owner was at work.

And I had ten minutes before my own work was due to start, my wife was too exhausted to clean it up, so I got no chance to relax before work, had to go get a shovel and a scrub-brush and blech.

oh dear.

And then began a full day's work!

Y'know, I became a programmer so I wouldn't spend my days with stinky animals. It's not working out so well.

ay, carumba! That tenant needs kicking out so bad!

Jimminy Crickets! I need a nap after reading that!

Tenant's leaving this weekend! Am proud of him getting his shit toge... oh geeze.

But yeah, am glad he's leaving. He's not a tenant, just a guest, and he's overstayed a little more than I'd like. But still, he's got a job and a place and a boyfriend, and I'm impressed at him.

great tales all around

...shit together.

just really glad on your behalf that you no longer have to deal with giant mastiff turds.