Tuesday, June 7, 2005
Volume 10 - Impulse Alpaca
My day had taken me on a trip on Highway 43 in northern Alberta. The reasons for this trip are unimportant. What unexpectedly happened however was interesting. I was traveling alone. After some time I passed a sign which read “Alpacas For Sale… Good Prices”. Now I would be the first to admit that I don’t really need an alpaca. At the time I was not even certain what one was. But the tag line on the sign was “Good Prices”. How can I resist marketing like that? I was making good time and it was not far off the main highway so I decided to take a small detour to stretch my legs if nothing else. I turn off the main highway and follow a few more signs down a bumpy dirt road. The signs become increasingly lame as I get closer to the ranch. The worst/best sign I saw read (I swear) “Buy a-pack-a Alpacas!” That was so cheesy I almost turned the vehicle around. But instead I continued on.
So eventually I get to the Alpaca Ranch. I had been behind the wheel for quite a while so I parked and approached a scruffy man that was outside chewing some “tabbaci” (as he called it) and then politely declined his offer to share some. “You chew buddy?” he asked me. “Only my food you dirty backwards inbred fuckface.” I almost said but instead simply shook my head lightly saying “naah, thanks though.” There was no need to be too insulting to this stranger (yet) after all I just met him and this was his property after all. So he asks what brings me to “Gods country”, I try not to laugh at this while I inquire about the Alpacas. I tell him that I especially liked his “pack-a alpacas” sign. He tells me “My own wife done did the idee-er for that’n one.” From the way he speaks I am guessing buddy is home schooled. He then introduces himself but I wasn’t really listening as I honestly didn’t care what his name was anyways and I give a fake name. I told him my name was Michael Hunt. He doesn’t get it. He says “Good’n to have done met ya’s Michael.” We then go walking around and he tells me about the alpacas. I actually became interested in what he was saying and I stopped with being a smartass and asked questions about these fine animals and begged to see them. He leads me to the alpacas and on first impression they look like the result of a threesome barnyard fuck-fest between a camel, a sheep and a retarded kid. But I am intrigued by these odd looking creatures. And I know what you are thinking, but my story does not end with me busting a nut in the barn while tonguing an alpaca’s nutsack. No, this story is a wholesome one. The animal, although stranger looking than someone doing air guitar to Air Supply, is almost cute in a sick and ugly way. These beasts are also renowned (apparently) for their gentle nature and considered as an investment due to their high quality fibre that can be woven into many fine garments. Long story short: a deal was to be made.
I am led to an area around back where the “less than desirable” alpacas were kept. I am introduced to a clumsy little fellow who I am told was not quite as bright as the others and would not likely be a great candidate for breeding due to the fact “he’s own legs aint done work’mn right’n so good an on ‘counta him been dumber than a right fuckin’ go’n out an’aer .. something something… sheeit.” (I admit that I did not understand a lot of what this guy said to me.) But I was sold. This particular animal had the sweetest look in his eyes when he looked at me, he was friendly and soft and Buddy was right he was a clumsy little goof but that was part of his appeal. And come on he said they were considered an investment! He would pay for himself in no time! Then I found out the camelids name was “Osama”. Strange choice for a pets name, but whatever, its seems funny when you look at the creature. Osama. Whatever. I like it. “Meet my pet alpaca, Osama…” Long story short: I now have an Alpaca named Osama living in my back yard. An alpaca with a tendency to fall down.
I am not sure if I fully thought this out before I made my decision. My wife was entirely unimpressed. She was convinced that it was some kind of stupid joke. I explained the whole “investment” angle to her but she was not buying it. She did not picture us out there weaving our pet into sweaters (honestly either did I). I tried to explain “impulse purchase items” but she replied saying that a pack of gum, chocolate bar or a magazine would qualify as an impulse item not a weird animal that I paid a large sum of money for. Trust me these creatures do not come cheap. They can be sold for anywhere from $500 up to $6000, mind you my alpaca did not cost anywhere near that price however was still considerably more than a pack of gum. I think that given some time that stupid bastard could really grow on me and my family. Time will tell. I seen my wife petting Osama on the head and I think she even gave him a little hug. I don’t know, maybe he is just a dumbass. Or maybe he is the thing that will complete our family and make our lives unique and full. For now though I will spend some time in the back yard with my alpaca Osama. I don’t know maybe we should just shoot the fucker and throw him on the grill.
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