I'm still pretty undecided about alpacas. Some quick fire stats for you are that they have three stomachs, gestation is about 345days and there are no known wild ones in the world. In fact, they've been domesticated for thousands of years and for anyone who doesn't know - they basically look like small llamas. In the main, they are supposed to live on the level heights of the Andes and were/are bred specifically for their fiber (the fleece) and a bit like wool, it's knitted into various hats, scarves, gloves or ponchos if you live in South America (or go to fancy craft fairs in the South of England). I'm not sure why there are so many in and around the New Forest, but there are, and we've just set up a consultancy service through Pilgrims with one of the leading alpaca vets in the UK who is coming to visit us every three weeks and use the practice as a satellite base for her referrals. Queue me wrestling with a seemingly endless number of alpacas, trying to hold them for the referral vet whilst she did something unspeakable with an ultrasound probe to determine if they were pregnant. In a nutshell, the alpacas didn't like it and they are stronger than they look. Spitting, kicking and leaping from lying down to head height in a matter of seconds  - it's fair to say, I struggled to build an affinity with them. 

And so I was warned that spitting, kicking and leaping around would be the order of the day when I went to give a talk at a local school for teenagers with learning and communication difficulties. Billed as the last chance saloon, I went along with more than a slight sense of trepidation - the kids I was talking to were late teens, all had pretty much been expelled from several schools, some had even stabbed their teachers. I know the Head Teacher - she's incredible in a million ways and I thought I could wheel out a quick talk, score a couple of brownie points with the powers that be and basically nip out of consults for a couple of hours. It was only heading into the talk, did I really appreciate that this wouldn't be a 'standard chat'. Deciding that taking Leuwen along, my 45kg Ridgeback, might be a good plan, I padded into the crowded classroom to survey the gathering in front of me - and the effect was amazing.

Leuwen, who to be brutally honest, is not known for his social etiquette, decided he was in his element. The kids all fell silent as he padded along the front row wagging his tail. He doesn't do this - ever. The kids who were probably the most honest individuals for an audience you could get anywhere in the world, opened their arms to him. Sure, Leuwen let the cubs and brownies all listen to his heart last month but it wasn't a high point for him. This was. My limelight was completely stolen - the talk went great - thanks to him - and I left with a spring in my step - in fact, it was one of my favourites to date and the questions were brilliant - instead of normal charity rhetoric, we covered the difference between African and Asian elephants, where exactly Peru was - right through to ruminant digestion and the pros and cons of paravertebral anaesthesia. Considering attention spans could have been an issue, the kids were keen, polite, kind - they asked the best questions ever and they were all so nice to Leuwen. In fact they all listened to his heart as well - even the one that apparently hated animals and went mad when near one. It was brilliant. Leuwen had one of his best days ever and was given a belly-full of biscuits as a reward by the head. Of course - the teachers and support staff there were amazing and left me feeling humbled and inspired by what they do as their day jobs, but it was a really great afternoon all round.

I guess the lesson I learned was that maybe I need to keep an open mind about alpacas - who knows, they may surprise me next time.