The Story of Leo
by Vashon Borich-Leach with art by Mary Arneson
His chocolate brown, almond-shaped eyes gazed into hers. Around his face fell wisps of golden strawberry-blonde hair. He batted his long eyelashes at my mother.
I knew from the look on her face, we were taking him home.
I was a teenager and My mother and I were at the famed Houston livestock show and rodeo. The livestock show was always a dangerous endeavor for animal lovers like my mother and I.
My eccentric mother had just fallen in love with a llama.
Leo the llama was less than a year old and stood 5 ft tall from head to toe. This was his first showing. His owners maintained a llama farm in East Texas. They had just finished brushing and primping Leo for the show shortly before my mother greeted him at his corral.
She motioned for the owner and asked, “How much for the llama?”
I knew it didn’t matter how much it was, she was going to buy that llama. A financial agreement was made. He would be shown and then my mother could pick him up afterwards.
It was no surprise that gorgeous Leo won first place!
What was surprising was the look on the handlers face after my mother responded that she didn’t have a horse trailer to take him home. She nonchalantly, turned and said “We’ll just put him in the back of my Cadillac. It has a sunroof so he can stick his head out.”
I thought they were going to faint.
My mother motioned for me to grab a blanket out of the back of the trunk and place it on the leather seats of her Cadillac Seville. The handlers tried to stifle laughter as they brought Leo over to the car. My mother open the sunroof. With a little coaxing, Leo climbed into the back of the car, folded his legs under him and immediately stuck his head out the sunroof.
He was going to his new home in style. Things seemed to be going well.
We had just exited the parking lot when lights began flashing behind us.
My mother pulled over. The smirking officer walked up to the car and asked, “Are you aware there is a large animal with his head sticking out of your sunrooof?”
Without missing a beat, “Yes, that’s my new llama! Isn’t he beautiful?”
The officer looked at us both and confirmed that neither one of us was intoxicated. As if on cue, Leo leaned over and grabbed the officer’s hat and slung it into the road.
Exasperated, the officer informed my mother that she could NOT drive down the highway with a llama hanging out of her roof. She needed to return to the Rodeo and get proper transportation for a FARM animal.
My mother shrugged and back we went. She made arrangements for the llama to be delivered the following day.
Day 2
The horse trailer pulled into the driveway of our suburban Houston home. I greeted them and made small talk. The handlers looked around and not seeing any corrals or even a fenced-in area, asked, “Where are you planning on putting the llama?”
Mom, rounding the corner, said “Just put him in the house.”
The handlers looked back at me in disbelief. I shrugged and into the house Leo went.
The llama people left and certainly had a good story to tell.
Here I stood holding a rope halter and a llama in the family kitchen.
My mother, beaming with excitement said “Let him off the lead so he can explore his new home.” So, I unclipped the lead.
Chaos ensued.
Leo began galloping around the house.
Llamas can run damn fast.
It was then we learned that Llamas make three sounds.
1. A horse-like winnie. This means he’s really excited. He made this sound while he ran figure 8’s as fast as he could around the sofa in the living room and circled the kitchen island.
2. A clicking noise. This means they are going to spit. Llama spit flew everywhere, including between my eyes when I tried to catch him.
3. A deep human-like hum. This means he’s stressed. Like when he cut a corner too sharp, bumped into a standing lamp and got his head caught in the lampshade. Now we had a stressed out llama running around the house with a lampshade on his head. At least it cut down on the spitting.
However, the crazed, galloping llama with a lamp shade on his head was destroying the house. We tried to catch him or corner him, but he was far too fast.
Suddenly, he stopped. I reached out to grab him and instantly realized why he stopped.
He had to pee.
This was no ordinary little dog tinkle. Think bathtub-sized flood.
Exhausted, mom and I flopped down on the sofa to figure out what to do next. I turned on the TV.
As if by magic, Leo stopped running. He walked over to the television. Sat down, curled all four legs, and as if in a trance, began watching tv.
We cleaned up llama pee.
It was then we heard the garage door open. Dad was home. He was unaware that Mom had purchased a llama.
Leo the llama, now curious about the noise, walked to the back door and peered through the window.
We watched as Dad approached the back door. Suddenly, he made eye contact with Leo. He rubbed his eyes. He looked back at the llama. The llama looked at him. Dad saw us smiling through the window. He turned around got back in his truck and didn’t come home that night.
Early the next morning we awoke to hammering. Outside was Dad building a fence for a llama corral.
