The grace of friendship saves us all.
Human friends who think holding an angry alpaca on a dark rainy night until your body gets sore is fun.
Alpaca friends who trust you even when they are frightened or worried (this alpaca mama really is remarkable - on top of medicating her against her will five nights in a row and kidnapping her baby three times and torturing it with formula and enemas several times in front of her, I left the leash on her face halter in case we had to move her out of the paddock and she panicked - clearly thinking it was a snake - and started kicking everything and anything - including her baby - but I talked to her and reached out and she let me take it off without any fuss).
Also, poop. Poop saves us all. When it comes out. Thank you anise seed enema for helping the poop out!
Cria is not out of the woods yet, but it is safe to be hopeful again.
I am not going to lie. Heading back outside in the even darker without a friend to force feed an alpaca baby who objects while his mama objects is something I really don't want to do. Fortunately, I accidentally fell asleep on the floor with my baby for a half hour so I have enough energy to carry on. Just one more time... then I can sleep till dawn. If my cough/my baby let me.
Mothers. All I have to say is holy shit. Mothers are badass. Every one. I never knew! I mean, I thought I knew, but nobody does. If non-mamas grokked how badass mamas were, mamas would be exalted, paid well, and given executive assistants. They would be marvelled at, like street performers and contortionists.
This whole mama gig is still new enough I am in shock and awe. But it got more real tonight when I finally could not deny that little one does know I am mama and really does mean to say it (he's been saying it for weeks). Sometimes I am maman or mum or ma but he only says it when he wants me and I am not holding him and he was so adamant this evening, yelling "mamun! mum! mamun!" at me that it finally clicked.
So this is mamum signing off. Into the night I go.