Highwood

The bungalow called Highwood was the last but one on the south side of Kiln Lane, Lacey Green, although in fact Kiln Lane has not been adopted by the Council to this point.

In the 1939 Register (census) the occupants are recorded as Leonard F. Claydon, born 1905, chairmaker and his wife Maud E Claydon, born 1904.

Leonard F, was known as Frank Claydon

Hallmark summer 2024 by Andy Mcllwaine

“But why alpacas?”.  I still can’t really answer that - or the looks of incredulity.

It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision (not that months of research really prepared us - more on that shortly).  Having finally acquired those dilapidated garages fronting Kiln Lane (a tortuous seven year legal process that began following the passing of my former neighbour, councillor and local historian Dennis Claydon) the question arose what to do with the field that came with it. Leaving it to the cows for a few weeks a year would have been the easy way out. Too wet for horses or donkeys (and, besides, they seemed just a little too much work). Sheep might fare better but seemed complicated … and might they annoy the neighbours?  We thought about goats but, neglected since Dennis’ passing, goat-proofing a 1.5 acre field seemed a mission too far.  But it was a no-brainer: alpacas are “light of foot”, “clean”, “friendly”, “easy to control”, “low maintenance”, “don’t smell”, “quiet” and “don’t challenge fences”.  

And everything on the internet is true, isn’t it?

After several months trying to acquire a couple of ready-made herds of 3 or 4 geriatric girls in need of a new home, we instead found ourselves exploring nearby breeders (there’s a surprising alpaca network developing) and being attracted in particular to the story of Roger Mount, a colourful cigarillo-smoking City gentleman with clearly a thousand stories to tell, and his amazing Snowshill Alpacas near Cheltenham. He started, self-taught, with three “to mow the grass” 20 years ago and now has over 300, including many UK champions (yes, it’s a massive thing).  He helped us to choose 5, an almost impossible task, introducing each by name, and describing their genetic background, fibre quality, temperament - he was gentle when we revealed our criteria was simply a mix of colours - and advised getting boys not girls: if they fall out (and they will) the girls may hold a grudge for life; the boys will patch things up in 5 minutes. No comments, please.

Bedraggled Bandini, Smokey Joe, Xavier, Remus II and Emerys arrived in Kiln Lane in torrential rain at the end of May. They were clearly unimpressed at their fall from grace, particularly having suffered the indignity of being sheared the day before.  But they quickly discovered the benefit of the better grass:alpaca ratio (we think they’re actually starting to get fat!).

Roger described them as “rather captivating”, an understatement if ever there was one.  I can spend hours just watching them,  they are certainly quirky creatures: all very different with their own peculiar mannerisms.  But cursed. The most inquisitive animal on the planet, but so so timid, scared of their own shadow … or a mistimed sneeze, bird call or barking dog in the adjacent field. Mankinds’ exploration of the moon wouldn’t have got beyond Florida had we been similarly afflicted.

Let’s introduce them.

Bandini, the pure black one is almost impossible to photograph as he always comes out a silhouette. He’s everybody’s favourite because he’s always the first to approach and the bravest. Great bulging eyes, he’s fascinated in everything. Gentle with the dogs, achieving “first contact” by day three, he was also the easiest to harness and doesn’t wildly object to being stroked.

Smokey Joe is the baby of the group. We HAD to choose him due to his distinctive brown and grey coat (“fleece”?) but also his mischievous glint. He’s a naughty little boy - always biting the others’ legs and initiating a bit of play-fighting (or sometimes something a little more amorous being, along with Bandini, still “intact”) … which isn’t always what you want to do with Emerys! Smokey and Bandini are thick as thieves - it’s been lovely to see their friendship develop.

Xavier, or “sleepy Joe” because he always looks like he’s just woken up, is slowly getting his confidence. He’s the oldest - 3 already on arrival - but a born follower. He’s always to be found one step behind Emerys, also white, who he clearly sees as his protector. He’s impatient at meal times - I wish I was as keen for a bit of muesli - but occasionally now joins in the play-fighting.

Remus II, is the most handsome.  An enormously chunky brown boy with a long and very camel-like face when we first met him he arrived coatless and skinny. I thought he would be the dominant one but he’s definitely our shy boy. Always at the back of the pack, he will make sure to manoeuvre someone else in front of him and is the last to seek contact.  He’s a little bit of a loner but when the others are close by and there’s peace in the paddock he makes the happiest little sheep-like sounds. A surprising sign though: when there has been a little bit of an altercation he steps up to defend the victim and reprimand  the instigator (usually Emerys) with a barrage of fearless spitting.

Which leaves Emerys, deliberately, to last.

Emerys quickly proclaimed himself our alpha and continues to disprove pages and pages of anecdotal internet “facts”. He’s a beautiful, stubborn, arrogant boy with a side-kick a Thai kick-boxer would be envious of (I approach him now with a cushion in front of my legs) and a head flick to rival the biggest drag queen. He’s also got this weird T-Rex action where he suddenly swings his neck 180 degrees when you least suspect it. Emerys is a rarer Suri alpaca with a longer, apparently more valuable, coat that needs shearing only every other year (while the others are all Huacayas). 3 is the magic minimum number for an alpaca herd - ostensibly because alpacas take turns to guard and one will always be on duty and need to take turns to avoid burnout (according to the internet…). But it’s always him! Even at night he stations himself outside the barn, stays alert, and never sleeps (if I wake in the middle of the night I always check the cameras and, yes, he’s there on duty without fail). Occasionally challenged but never toppled, he rules the roost. And so far, it has to be said, us.

He’s our nemesis, or our misunderstood hero of the paddock, we’re not sure yet. He can be gentle with the dogs, sniffing nose to nose with apparent affection. But as soon as your back is turned he could be chasing them, occasionally stomping the ground. I don’t trust him, and I’ve chased him round the field a couple of times in return shouting “NO Emerys, bad alpaca” (as per the American guidelines - “they are highly intelligent creatures so always use their names”). The dogs have worked it out too:  they are very wary of Emerys and simply keep out of his way but are starting to trust the others.

So was it a mistake? No way! (Although, to be fair, my partner is not so sure: “why don’t we get a a miniature pony instead, they look so cuddly on Facebook?”). They’re still timid. You can be nose to nose with then buy they won’t willingly be stroked yet.  But we’re struggling to harness them without traumatising them or getting injured and need to practice that - I think that’s the key to everything, including those future alpaca walks!  For two complete novices we’ve come out relatively unscathed so far - although we’ve had our fair share of Clarkson’s Farm moments, mostly around believing the internet.

Hugging an alpaca IS akin to a declaration of war (it’s how they start a fight) but the biggest myth that we fell for hook, line and sinker was that “alpacas can starve in a field of long grass due to only having one set of teeth” which prompted us to buy a second hand tractor only to realise that 70cm was the maximum height it could cope with. After hand-strimming 0.75 acres we realised ‘the boys’ were merrily munching through the other half. Thank you Professor Google.

The spitting was also something we were totally unprepared for. Not against us - that suggestion on the US alpaca sites that we’d be regularly sprayed with green flem (maybe it’s a thing in America) - that’s never happened. But they regularly spit on each other, usually a dry spray of shredded grass or grains, particularly at meal times. It’s not the spitting itself but the reaction: alpaca law seems to require the recipient to stand patiently while the “spittee” unleashes 10 or so mouthfuls each with the sound of a 1980s child’s cap pistol. Where it all comes from I don’t know. After that, protocol dictates that both will stand adjacent to each other (perfectly still but with no direct eye contact), mouth stretched open to an almost painful extent, for ten minutes, as if to say “oooh  I can’t believe you just did that”.  It’s hysterical but you kind of feel you should be intervening to break it up.  We’ve had two or three incidents so far of more serious falling-outs involving biting and a little squealing but in all cases five minutes later all is good again after the spitting so I’ll assume Roger gave us excellent advice there.

Our lack of knowledge of the natural world - especially in a traditionally agricultural setting like Lacey Green - has been a bigger issue and is just a little embarrassing: What’s the difference between hay and straw? My goodness, doesn’t grass grow quickly? Ragwort, who knew?! (And it needs a special fork??).

They’re proving much easier than we expected on the whole though: weirdly they all agree where to go to the toilet and never mess in the barn, so it’s easy to keep the field clean. They eat grass, hedges, brambles, low hanging branches, and once a day they get a very exciting bowl each of muesli-like stuff, vitamins and alf-alfa (look that one up), so that’s easy, and it’s true about the fences (so far). They’re just about keeping on top of the front field - maybe we should get another 5 for the rear when it’s finally under control? Winter, when the clay starts to hold water and the grass stops being so nutritious, will be telling. The twice a day poo-pick might not be so quick from November. We’ve got vaccinations, toenail and teeth trimming to come in the Spring and, of course, the shearing, so the honeymoon period will definitely be over by then.

The really positive thing, and I can’t overstate this, has been how much pleasure it seems to have brought to other people in the village to see these weird creatures. We love it, are surprised by it, and it makes it all worthwhile. Some have seen already that they can’t help but come and check you out, especially if you have a dog or a little person. But if you see us about and you want to get closer, it is absolutely no bother, just give us a wave.  No guarantees though - that much is down to Emerys!