I am reprinting this article on my website in the hope that it will spare people the pain that we went through.  There is a great fear in the llama community that the Disney animated movie, "KINGDOM  OF THE SUN" may encourage some unscrupulous breeders to sell bottle fed babies.

My interest in llamas began in 1984, when I saw an article about them in our local Vancouver paper. These regal creatures had a very special and unique appeal. Although they fascinated me, we lived in the middle of a big city and I was unable to do more than admire llamas from afar.

In 1990 my husband Brant and I made the big decision - we sold the house, packed up our eight year old twin daughters Carly and Shannon and moved to a farm in Langley, about thirty miles south-east of Vancouver, B.C. We named the farm "Xanadu" – a reference to the movie Citizen Kane, which was a thinly disguised biography of newspaper baron William Randolph Hearst. He was also one of the first people in North America to import llamas.

We talked to a number of breeders in the area, and discovered that llamas weren’t cheap. We came to the conclusion that we should initially get a male so that we would have a lower investment. Then we could decide whether we enjoyed having the animals, and wanted to become more involved in the llama industry. With that thought in mind we visited many local llama farms and attended several shows.

At about the same time, we resumed contact with an old acquaintance that ran a petting zoo, which was passing through our area. "Llamas!" he said. "I've got llamas!". We were completely impressed with the "people" qualities exhibited by the animals he had with him - the baby llamas loved to nuzzle visitors. To be fair to the zoo owner, he was reluctant to part with the baby we chose; a seven-month-old male llama named "Bounder" - a pure white little guy with a brown tail. However, we insisted, and eventually went home with Bounder in the back of our van. The owner of the petting zoo suggested that we not geld Bounder until he was full-grown, as he had really good bloodlines and might have the makings of a stud. We were wildly excited - our first llama!

Bounder was wonderful! He adored people, would follow you anywhere without needing to wear a halter, and would constantly nuzzle your neck. He wanted to be right with you, and loved to wind his neck around you. We bought him in October, 1991 and Shannon and Carly had a great time with him. We'd read that llamas shouldn't be kept alone, so we put him in with our mini donkey, two sheep and two goats. He seemed to like the company, but preferred people above all else.

We were so impressed with Bounder's personality that we began looking around for some more llamas. Vern Drader, a well-known local breeder was one of our first stops. He showed us some beautiful animals, but when we mentioned this terrific young llama we had at home, he seemed a bit nonplussed. Vern told us that we might have a problem on our hands when Bounder got older, as his personality might change. We laughed, and said that we were sure nothing could change in this loving animal. Vern was sceptical, and promised to fax us an article on the subject.

The article arrived the next day. It was written by Dr. Bob Fenimore, D.V.M., a prominent llama breeder who at that time lived in Invermere, B.C. It was entitled, "Berserk Male Syndrome", and explained in great detail the kinds of things that can create this animal - all of which had been done to Bounder. He'd been taken away from his mother at a very early age, bottle-fed from that day on, constantly handled by people as he was moved around the country, and patted for hours at a time by hundreds of people. Llamas, as well as many other domestic animals, undergo an identity crisis when they're bottle-fed. This phenomenon is also commonly seen is sheep and dairy cattle. When the animal, male or female, is bottle fed from a very early age, it no longer sees a human as another species, but rather as a member of its herd - another llama! As the animal gets older, this perception deepens. When the llama becomes sexually mature, the problems begin. If it's a male, it sees you as something to defend its territory against, or something to breed. If it's a female, the problems are somewhat more subdued - usually revolving around food. She'll "spit you off" just as she would another llama when there's food around.

We started looking at Bounder in a different light. He was still everybody's friend, a constant attraction when friends and family visited. Not a hint of aggression in this little guy! We began to relax, although we did talk to other breeders, who confirmed the concerns Vern had expressed about berserk male syndrome. We were sure Bounder was different - he was the exception to the rule.

When Bounder was thirteen months old, something strange happened. Carly was walking through Bounder’s field with some friends, which she'd done many times previously, when Bounder came running towards them. He'd done this before, but this time he didn't stop - he ran right over top of her, knocking her to the ground, then standing over her. The other children were able to chase him away, but she was terrified of him after that. We hoped he'd just made a mistake, and had misjudged the distance, but thought it might be time he had the company of other llamas. We bought another young male, Lakeside Dancer, and put him in the field next to Bounder so they could "get used to" each other. Bounder wanted nothing to do with him. Dancer’s attempts at interaction were completely ignored.

Over the next six months, Bounder became increasingly aggressive. He drove the smaller animals away from their common shelter, and began spitting and screaming at all of us as we walked by his field. As soon as he saw us he would begin marking his territory, then he’d stand on the highest ground in his pen, angle himself ninety degrees from us, and scream and spit.

Bounder was a great jumper, and I became more and more afraid that he might jump the fence around his field and go after my children as they walked to the barn. The loveable, huggable baby was gone - replaced by this demon. The final straw came when he was twenty-two months old. One day in January, 1993, my husband Brant went into the field to change Bounder's water. Bounder came at him in a screaming rage, knocking Brant to the ground, pounding him with his front feet. Brant managed to escape with a cut on his head and some bruises, but it was obvious that something had to be done.

We consulted our vet, who shook her head, and recommended that we put Bounder down. She compared him to a "powder keg" - an accident waiting to happen. We asked if gelding him would help. She doubted that it would, but when we insisted, she agreed to perform the operation. Now the next task was to get him into the barn.

On a cold, icy day in January, we managed to get two nooses around Bounder's neck. With Brant on one side, and me on the other, we began pulling the screaming, spitting, animal towards the barn door a few feet away. When he reared up in the air, Bounder and I both slipped on the ice, and he came down on top of me. I managed to roll out of the way, and we got him into the barn. After he was in his stall, still screaming and spitting, we realised that he wasn't putting any weight on one front leg. We couldn't get anywhere close to him to find out what was wrong, so we called our vet. She came out and sedated him, then told us the bad news. He'd come down on his knee when he fell, shattering his shoulder. There would be no reprieve for Bounder. He was put down immediately. Our vet told us that we were very lucky the accident had happened - otherwise she was sure that Bounder would haver permanently injured someone, whether he was gelded or not.

We'll always feel a degree of guilt about the sad end to Bounder's brief existence, although we've been told that his fate was decided long before we came into his life. But we'll always wonder if we could have done something different, and changed the tragic outcome.

They say that life is full of lessons, and this was one of ours. Did our first unfortunate experience with llamas change our mind about being involved with them? No! Our daughters have spent the last few years in the local llama 4H club, as well as showing at open shows across B.C.

Many other llamas have entered our lives, most notably PF Carlos, a true llama gentleman that we bought as a fluffy baby.  He went on to be a two time Grand Champion  Heavy Wool Male, and a Versatility Champion.   He exemplifies male llama behaviour – respectful, gentle, inquisitive and easy to handle.

Our herd now numbers twenty seven, with eight babies on the way this year. My daughters Shannon and Carly are actively involved in grooming, judging and showing llamas, and they have a great time. They have recovered completely from our unfortunate first venture into the llama industry.

What can we tell people just starting out with llamas, so they won't go through the heart-rending experience of Bounder?

1. Never, ever buy any llama from a petting zoo - ESPECIALLY a male. The females may not become quite as aggressive, but bottle fed females have been known to chest butt or jump on their unsuspecting new owner.
3. If at all possible, buy your llama from a reputable farm where you can see the family – sire and dam, brothers and sisters. Spend some time with them and observe their individual temperaments. It will tell you a lot about the temperament of your prospective llama. Watch how the owner handles the animals, and how the animals treat the owner.
5. Be very cautious when buying a male llama through an auction - particularly if you don't know the seller. Sometimes a llama's personality improves dramatically - and temporarily - when it's moved out of familiar territory. Eventually it will establish a new territory - and may revert to previous behaviour. If you do want to buy through an auction, try to find a reputable one. If a llama is being sold cheaply through a horse or small animal auction, beware.
7. If you do buy a young male and later find that there's a possibility he's from a petting zoo, have him gelded as soon as possible. Don’t wait to see if he has "herd sire" qualities. Current wisdom says that gelding shouldn’t be done until the age of two, but in this case, you should consult with your vet and consider gelding as soon as reasonably possible. Then cross your fingers and hope. If you’re already seeing signs of aggression in a male that you geld, it can take up to six months before you’ll see any definite signs of improvement. In some cases, gelding may not improve the situation.
9. When you start breeding your own babies, let them be llamas. We handle our babies when they're born, making sure that they're nursing and in good health, then we let them keep their distance. We want them to know that we're from different species - that we're not members of their herd. Any display of "chesting" - running up against you and hitting you with their chest - is strongly discouraged. When the baby is four or five months old, we begin halter training, but we always make them respect our space.
11. If you have to bottle feed a llama baby, especially a male, try to have as little contact with the baby as possible, and try to keep it with other llamas at all other times except feeding. If it's a male, seriously consider gelding it at a young age. We’ve had one male that was bottle fed for ten days who is completely normal as an adult. Another that was bottle fed for three days developed an attachment to humans, and was sold only on the condition that he would be gelded. The individual temperament of the baby (and the baby’s parents) does definitely play a role in this.
13. In the final analysis, if you know you have a problem llama on your hands, take responsibility for it. Don’t pass it on to some unsuspecting -perhaps first time- buyer through farm sales or an auction. There are some specialized individuals who have successfully rehabilitated "berserk" males, but this is something that shouldn’t be undertaken lightly.

We've been very fortunate with our other llamas – they’re all friendly without being pushy, and they know where the herd ends and the humans begin. We love all of the llamas we have currently. We each remember Bounder - not as the potential time bomb he became, but as the happy, friendly baby he was when we first got him. By writing this article, my family and I hope we can keep at least one person from going through our unhappy experience. Then Bounder's life - and death - won't have been in vain. May he rest in peace.