The Lama and the Bear (A true story)

My name is Raven. I am completely black. Who would have guessed that, eh? My owner has really shown some creativity in giving me that name. I am not really fond of them. But, because I am a respectful lady I let all those animals be what they are and treat them with high regards. As long as they don’t come too close to me. But more on that later. So, yes. My name is Raven. I am black and did I mention that I am a lama? Well now I did. In Tibetan lama means chief or high priest. Ever heard of the Dalai Lama? Now you have an impression on what level I am thinking, feeling, acting. I am tall (about 5 feet 9 inches), proud, powerful and… well there is no other word to say, other than beautiful.

But, I mean there are galaxies between us lamas and the alpacas. Alpacas are small and they’d rather hide behind a tree than stand up and show who is boss. And besides it is “Dalai Lama” and not “Dalai Alpaca,” am I right?

The names of these girls are Chocolate and Quita. They’re nice and we have fun together. And they know their place in our little hierarchy.I have to laugh every day about them when we are getting our kibbles. The three of us have two bowls to share. When the bowls are filled with yummy goodies, the girls start to chase each other around. They both run from one bowl to another, kick at each other, spit at each other because they are so jealous that one might get one kibble more than the other. In the meantime I am looking at them, I eat my share slowly and undisturbed and I am having a good laugh. At some point the girls finally figure out that it would be more productive to actually eat than push each other around. As I said, they are missing a few links in the chain.

Well, I’ll tell you a story about a beautiful July afternoon. I was standing in the sun, good looking as always, and I was watching Chocolate and Quita fighting over some hay. So funny. But then I smelled something. I knew that smell, but could not immediately figure out what it was. It was a stinky smell. Danger. I patrolled our pen. At that point, the girls were still fighting. OMG. I looked into the woods and I saw a shadow. Big, dark, moving. Now I recalled that smell. Bear. I ran over to the girls and made them aware of the danger.

When Quita saw the shadow, she almost passed out. Chocolate ran behind the trees (I told you) and thought she would be safe there. Alpacas! For me this meant to stand up for us all and fight. The bear was now in daylight. I saw him: huge, his head bouncing from one side to the other, approaching the fence. I went towards him, he came towards me and we met at the fence. Eye to eye we stood there.

Yes I was afraid. But I am a lama; big, beautiful and ready to do anything to protect my alpaca buddies. The bear tried to push in the fence. It was time to act. I took a deep breath, filled my lungs with air pressure, concentrated on my stomach and I spit the biggest, nastiest spit I was ever able to create. Right into the bears left eye. There you go you stinky bear. And here is another one for you. Flush. The right eye got one as well.

The bear was so surprised (and probably also disgusted) that he stopped his movements. He tried to get rid of all the spit in his face. Tough job. Finally he turned away and moved on into the woods. Yes, he got the message. Don’t mess with a Lama. Chocolate and Quita came to me and danced the celebratory dance. Neck high up in the air and singing. At least they thought it was singing. It actually sounded more like a squirrel with puberty vocal change.

After a few minutes I could not hear and watch this drama anymore and I said, “Ladies, that’s it. I need some quiet time.”

At that point the bowls got filled with kibbles and the alpacas started spitting at each other again. As for myself, I chuckled and took a well-deserved nap.

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