Llama bites

We decided to pay a visit to Cusco zoo. It's on the university campus and doesn't make it into any of the guidebooks, being the size of a teatowel and a little depressing in places, especially where bigger animals are concerned. There are two moth eaten spectacled bears, an ocelot sulking in a box and the birdcages aren't really big enough, but we were glad we went if only to ensure that the zoo made enough money to feed the animals for the rest of the week. On a cheerier note, the place had a fine disregard for health and safety. You can shake hands with the monkeys through the fence, I was allowed to handle (and nearly drop) a hefty tortoise, a big red parrot stole a child's lollipop and there was a ladder propped up against the wall of the bear enclosure. A toucan nearly savaged us when we tried to take its picture, as did a very angry ostrich. The star attraction of the zoo, we had been told, was the semi-tame llama who is allowed to wander around to keep the bushes trimmed. One volunteer told us that this llama tried to mount visitors but we assumed this was an urban myth.

It wasn't.

Llamas are of course fluffy and cute and this one was "semi tame", and I've already nearly patted a totally wild one on this trip so I figured this would be a cinch. Moreover, the llama seemed receptive to my overtures; it stopped grazing and eyed me as I approached, cautiously. It seemed docile enough. I gave it a nice pat. The llama was very soft. Job done.

If I'd left it there all I would have to show for it would be a nice picture of me and the llama, but of course I didn't leave it there. I thought maybe I could get a picture of me hugging the llama. It had stood still and been obliging before, and we were getting on great. So I moved in for a cuddle.
Nothing dirty. I just snaked my arm around its neck. The llama seemed OK with that too and then wandered off to the restricted area. Job done.

Now I made an error. I assumed that the llama and I were through so I turned back to the rest of the zoo. Suddenly there was a whoosh-gallop noise and I discovered that the llama had its front legs on my shoulders and was caressing the top of my head with its chin. I sorted of wailed and flailed my arms a bit and it backed off but nevertheless I was a little shaken at the narrowness of the reprieve and decided the llama and I needed some space.

Later the llama snuck up on a family group who were inspecting the toucan and sort of snorted at the child, who began to cry with shock. The mother decided the best course of action would be to slap the llama around the face. The llama seemed a little nonplussed by this and his ears went back and he squealed a bit. I decided to intervene, because I didn't like to see a llama being belted with a handbag, even a llama that had tried to have simulated sex with me against my will.

My intervention was masterful. The llama lost all interest in the handbag and instead began pecking at my shoelaces. One thing led to another and I am now sporting a beautiful llama love bite on my right calf. The bruise is about two inches long and quite a good shade of blue. I am of course being exceptionally brave.

Now there may be those who say that I was leading the llama on and that I deserve everything I get and you would of course be correct, but that llama was definitely giving off very mixed signals.