Lewis's Early Days
I have often been asked when I first realized that Lewis was blind. I was fortunate to be on hand when his mother was giving birth to Lewis. His feet seemed to be caught on the rim of the birth canal, and his mother was standing near the barn, worried, and waiting, it seemed, for me to do something to help her. This was her first baby, and I waited until I felt that no more progress was going to be made unless I helped. I was able to lube my hands and slip my fingers in just enough to pop the feet out. From there, delivery happened quickly. I scooped up the struggling cria and took him to the little barnyard to be with his mother while I did the initial check and put iodine on his navel.
It was obvious immediately that something was not right. Lewis could not seem to figure out which way was up. Having been present with many newborns, some stronger than others, I knew that some of them took their time about getting on their feet, or even assuming a kush position. But this fellow was waving his head around as though it was a basketball on a slender reed, sometimes literally smashing his head on the ground. He repeatedly rolled around and didn’t seem to have any concept about up or down. He had no coordination. At first I feared brain damage. Within only a few minutes I was suspicious of him being blind. He just didn’t seem to be "in there" when you looked into his eyes. I could not detect cataracts, but he was obviously not normal. His mother was nearby and very, very worried. It seemed she knew too that her beautiful little boy was not right.
I called my vet, who told me the best thing to do for now was to provide support. Our vet felt that the blindness, or what appeared to be blindness, might correct itself with time. I moved him to a stall with a pasture access for his mother. For many hours he could not manage to stand. I was able to bottle feed him 28 oz of cow colostrum, resulting in an IgG of almost 800. I helped him to gain his feet, and by late that day he was awkwardly moving around, and able to get up on his own, although he frequently lost his balance and fell down. I guided him under a patient and worried mother, and he tried vainly to suckle. It took him quite a while to find the udder, but he eventually was able to find it! All the times I have stuck babies up under their mothers, thinking they needed my help, and watching this blind baby find mom’s udder taught me that nature generally doesn’t need impatient humans to interfere. Within a couple days Lewis could consistently find mom’s udder, as long as he was in the general vicinity of her body.
The first couple of nights I took Lewis in the house, bottle feeding him at night when he awoke. I slept on the couch, while he slept on the floor of the family room. During the day I would take him back to the pasture, and make sure that he found his mother, who remained close by but unfortunately not close enough for him to find her. On examination, our vet diagnosed Lewis as permanently blind, and we went to Purdue to make certain there was nothing that could be done. At three days old, I had become already attached to this special baby, and carried him on my lap for the 2 hours to Purdue, crying all the time. I knew when I took him from his mother that morning that this was the last time she would see him. We did not hold much hope for keeping a blind llama
Lewis spent the first few nights in the living room and days under close watch in the pasture
Purdue reaffirmed our vet’s diagnosis, that Lewis had no retinas. However, they gave me encouragement that with a little common sense, they felt Lewis could live a good life! In disbelief, I happily carried Lewis back home. He continued to spend the nights in the house, and during the day I would assist him in finding his mother. After a week off work, I knew Lewis and his mother had to work things out on their own, as I could not stay home indefinitely to assume this surrogate role. I also did wish to continue to bottle feed a cria, even part time, unless absolutely necessary. Lewis was strong and healthy and had bonded to his mom. However, when the herd would foray into the far pasture, his mother would assume a position half way between Lewis and the herd. Not too far away, so that she could watch him; but not close enough for him to find her when he got hungry. Part of the "bargain" was that he could bridge this gap and make it without my continued intervention.
On the last day of my vacation, I waited hidden in the barn, and watched as he awoke from a nap in the sun. He began to circle, trying to find mom. This was the moment of truth. His mother watched from some distance. I did not interfere. Finally, after I had about turned blue holding my breath, mom got up and walked close to Lewis and stood. Still he could not find her. Then, she moved closer still. He eventually ran into her; and he could from there find her milk! As time went on this became their practice, and it seemed he could home in on her perhaps by smell or sound, so that if she came at least nearby, he was able to nurse. This was his first hurdle, and for the first time, I felt he really did have a chance to lead a fairly normal life!
As the days and weeks went by, Lewis’s bond to his mother grew, and we often found them sleeping side by side. He learned to play, awkwardly but play none-the-less, with the other crias born that season. He learned to find the open gate that led to the outer pasture, and often followed the herd out there. But coming back was more difficult; repeatedly I would discover him circling, alone, out away from everyone. If left alone, his mother would return to him for feeding, but I often gathered him up and carried him back to the closer pasture rather than leave him alone in the hot sun. His mother had a great milk supply and Lewis quickly grew so heavy that I halter trained him at only a few weeks of age so that I could lead him. Soon we were able to lead him by placing a hand on his neck and simply guiding him. Many times I would go out at night if a spring storm broke and bring him to the porch, often as not, soaking wet. The herd could run for cover, but Lewis did not navigate a straight line. As he grew, he learned to follow the others, and even to navigate the pastures and the barn stall and doors by himself. He eventually learned to discern the hardened trail in the earth that the llamas used to go between pastures. He readily came when I called, often answering in a short bleat with each mention of his name. He found the drinking water, and today can find any feed dish, regardless of where you put it; he knows by sound and smell where it is. He has become very resourceful and adept at finding food and shelter.
Lewis has had to find his own way through life, and soon learned to discern the hardened trail leading between the pastures. I have seen him neck wrestle with older crias, biting feet and almost appearing "normal" in his play, although when he runs it is in a safe circle. If I go to the outer pasture, I can sit quietly, and he will find me. He follows us, and if he gets excited or is having fun, we have to remember to speak to him so that he does not run into us in his excitement! If he knows where we are he is careful to approach slowly. If he approaches another llama that starts to respond to his presence by spitting, he has learned to duck and retreat at the first sign of the dominant llama raising their head. We don’t know if he can hear them or how he perceives this, but his ability to respond to some type of invisible "body language" is consistent.
The adaptation of this llama is incredible to me, even still. He enjoys the affection of people and yet remains a trustworthy companion, one who everyday reminds me how handicaps can be overcome. He enjoys life; it is hard to let problems get me down when I see what he has taken on and mastered!
Cause and Effect
Lewis has been completely blind since birth, due the fact that his retinas failed to develop. We have speculated at length on the cause, and checked the bloodlines for reports of similar problems. No answers were found. More than one vet felt that the problem could have been a freak congenital defect or caused by some toxin, such as an untimely worming. After waiting a year and half before breeding his mother again, we finally decided to take the chance, using a sire completely unrelated to Lewis’s father. The second breeding, however, ended with a cria who had an anal atresia (lack of a rectal opening), and was put down immediately. While these two defects do not have any known genetic link, we feel it is unfair to continue to produce babies that have such an unusually high potential for life threatening defects. It is unfair to the mother, certainly to the baby, and something that we do not wish to put ourselves through ever again. Lewis will be the only surviving offspring of his large and beautiful mother, who is being sadly removed from further breeding.
A rare irony: our cat Ringo investigates Lewis during his nights in the living room. Ringo was a stray kitten who we found convulsing in the road after being hit by a car. Ringo recovered fully except that she is blind in one eye from a detached retina. She received the name Ringo because of her tendency to move in circles, a similar coping mechanism that Lewis also exhibits.
