NSA Farm News
Paxson: A Mystical, Magical Alpaca
The story of Paxson, our beautiful little miracle alpaca, may seem ordinary to people that deal with livestock or large farm animals on a regular basis. But to us, it is nothing short of extraordinary! We are lucky to have Paxson and Salsa, his mother, here today. We owe thanks to many people as we worked to get him safely delivered into this world. They will recognize themselves as this story progresses. In order to better understand our story and all that's happened, I'll share a bit of background to better set the stage. I think you'll see, to us, alpacas are not just livestock and not just animals.
We finished building the barn for the alpacas in October, 2004. We had been researching, reading, attending seminars, classes, visiting all the farms we could, helping at a farm, and building, buying supplies, planting pastures, and all that was involved in preparing to be alpaca owners. All we didn't have were alpacas. The day came in 2006 when we learned that the farm we had been working on was selling Salsa and 2 of the other alpacas we had come to know and love. We called them immediately and asked to meet to discuss purchasing them. Just like that, the time came, the decision was made and on August 17th, 2006 our first 3 alpacas came to live on our farm, Northern Solstice Alpaca Farm in Unity, Maine.
Salsa was and is the matriarch, for sure. She came to us already bred and was due in late October. Along with her, we purchased the daughter of one of Salsa's best friends. Splenda was only 16 months old. She's white with bright, beautiful fleece and a shy, reserved personality. She felt best when she was following her aunt Salsa around at the hip. The third alpaca we bought was Hamilton, our “man of the farm”. He's a gelded male with a wonderful, friendly, protective personality. He takes looking after “his girls” very seriously, but is just as quick to want his own attention and affection.
On October 26th, 2006 Salsa gave birth - in textbook fashion - to Gabriel, the first alpaca born on our farm. Being our first baby, we were as nervous as could be, but Salsa knew what to do. Once again, she led us through like a pro. We did all that we had been trained. We put them in a pen together, we dried Gabe's wet fleece. We made sure he tried to get up and walk in the right amount of time. We made sure he was trying to nurse. During all of which time, Salsa remained patient with us. I think she knew we were trying to do all the right things, whether necessary or not and she humored us by letting us go. She trusted us and knew her baby was safe, even if we seemed to be making a big fuss. Gabe grew and grew as he should and was always on schedule with his development. He was a big boy, definitely inheriting his mother's large stature. He made having a cria seem easy. Two weeks after giving birth to Gabriel, it was time for Salsa to be re-bred.
We selected a gray male from her former farm. With Salsa's coloring mixed with the gray, we thought perhaps a black or gray cria would be the result. Zapata was an average sized male, but smaller than Salsa. We were hoping to have a cria of more average size.
It takes 11 ½ months from breeding to birth for a new cria to arrive. As time passed, all seemed well. Salsa behaved similarly to her first pregnancy. But as her due date approached and we watched, something was different. She didn't seem ready to deliver. Her date came and went and still nothing was happening to let us know it was time. Since each time is different, we weren't terribly worried. Until one day when she looked like she was in labor for about an hour, then it all just stopped. Later the same day, she cried like she was in pain for quite a while. Later in the evening, it stopped again. The next day she seemed fine, then later that evening the crying began again. We took a video of her behavior and sent it to everyone we could think of that could advise us what might be happening. We heard everything from “just wait, she'll go when she's ready" ...to "rush her to Tufts right now”. When she was crying again the next day, we put her in the trailer and off to Tufts we went. It was a 4 hour drive and we didn't know how she would be during a trailer ride, but we had to try. We left at 11 a.m. and arrived at 3 p.m. The staff at Tufts was waiting at the door for us. A team of 15 doctors, technicians and students came to greet us. They took Salsa directly into a large examination room. They examined her from top to bottom and checked the cria. They were unable to find a heartbeat with the ultrasound, but that's doesn't always mean there isn't one, so we didn't panic. They were able to determine that the baby was twisted in a bad position. Rather than being lined up nose to tail with Salsa, the baby was sideways. The Dr. tried turning him, to no avail. After a long attempt, with Salsa being patient, but obviously uncomfortable, the decision was made – a c-section had to be preformed. Salsa and the rest of our herd had been exposed to a virus spreading through the alpaca community just a few weeks prior to this event. She was experiencing the equivalent of a human runny nose and cold. Going under sedation was a risk, but not doing it would be riskier.
At 7 p.m. Salsa was placed on a gurney and rolled into surgery. We waited in the waiting room, trying to be patient for what seemed like hours. We discussed the reality of the situation and had come to expect that we would lose the cria – that was almost certain. We just prayed that Salsa would pull through. To hope for that, too, though seemed like a lot. At 8:30 p.m. Dr. Paxson came through the doors of the waiting room. We quickly tried to read her expression, but there wasn't time. She said in a loud and happy voice, “It's a boy. Would you like to see him?” We can't describe how we felt at that moment! We were so elated and shocked at the same time. She told us Salsa was still in surgery and would be out soon, but the baby was getting cleaned up and ready to meet us. We quickly followed her through the long concrete corridors toward the operating room.
We rounded the corner and there on a plastic rolling cart was a very large, very fluffy, very WHITE baby alpaca. He had 3 people around him, all warming and drying him with towels and a hairdryer. His skin was so pink, you could see the color through his beautiful white fluff. He looked straight at us and made a whining sound. We immediately were taken aback by his color. How did a dark brown Mom and a dark grey Dad produce a snow-white baby? We approached the table and the technicians working with him stepped aside to let us say hello. He was already trying to stand up. He was so large. He didn't look like a newborn. We asked his weight…22 pounds!! We petted him and hugged him and noticed his eyes! His eyes were half blue. It looked as though he had a light blue crescent moon in each eye. It was the most unusual thing we had seen – almost a mystical look. When we asked the doctor about it, she wasn't certain if it was genetic or if perhaps the virus his mother had been exposed to had something to do with it. It didn't matter right then. They were amazing to look at…he was amazing to look at. The entire experience was magical. And then, Dr. Paxson told us the rest of the story! It seems that when this baby was delivered, he wasn't breathing. He had to be intubated for over 15 minutes to bring him around. Dr. Paxson would not give up on him and he was not to be kept from this world. He started breathing and within minutes was moving around and attempting to stand and looking for milk. We now knew this was magic.
Since Salsa was still on the operating table, they quickly went to find milk and a bottle for him. We stepped back from the table and let the technicians work on drying and warming him some more. We watched with such amazement as he wriggled in their arms. We wanted to grab our phones and call all of our family. But what was his name going to be? It became so clear! The doctor responsible for him being alive - Dr. Julia Paxson! What a wonderful alpaca name – Paxson! We later discovered Paxson means “spirit”. How fitting. That was supposed to be his name!
Salsa was brought out of the operating room a short time later. It was painful to see her so groggy, with an oxygen tube in her nose. They did well with the procedure, but they were pretty certain she would have pneumonia due to the virus and post surgery. They wanted to keep her and Paxson at the hospital for several days. Paxson required 3 transfusions and was also on oxygen. He was unable to stand on his own, as much as he kept trying. They were put in a small stall together so they would begin the bonding process, but Pax would have to continue to be bottle fed. Once Salsa was feeling better, they would try to get her to nurse her baby.
We stayed well into the evening at the hospital, keeping an eye on both of our patients. When it looked as though they were just going to rest, we headed to the hotel for the night. We were told we could return the next morning for a brief visit. That's just what we did. By the next day, Salsa did have full blown pneumonia. We were required to wear surgical garb, gloves and masks to go in for our visit. We sat on the floor alongside our alpacas. We told them how much we love them and that we'd be back to get them just as soon as they were strong enough to come home. We knew they were in wonderful hands, but it was so hard to leave!
Dr. Paxson called with regular updates on their condition. They made steady improvements over time and it was looking good to be able to take them home the following Monday. Paxson still was not nursing from his mother, but was taking a bottle well from the nurses. Bottle feeding a cria every 2 hours at home for 6 months was going to be a chore, but one we would take on if necessary. On Monday morning we hadn't heard from the hospital yet whether we should make the 4 hour drive to pick up our “kids” or not. We were so anxious we decided to get on the road and take our chances. We started out at 8 a.m. At 10 a.m. the phone call we hoped for came. They said Salsa and Paxson could come home. They laughed when we said we were already 2 hours into the trip. But there was more good news! Salsa had allowed Paxson to nurse for the first time, that morning. The nurse had been working with them and it looked like Paxson had gotten the hang of it and Salsa seemed mildly in pain, but tolerated him nursing. If they would keep that up for the next day or 2, perhaps bottle feeding wouldn't be necessary after all.
Well, Salsa being our big, brave girl defying all the odds and Paxson being our magical, mystical boy, the nursing did continue. In fact, we stopped on the way home to check on them in the trailer and she was nursing him then. Nature took over so we didn't have to. We tried on 3 different occasions to give Paxson a bottle to help out if he wasn't getting enough or if Salsa needed a break, but he didn't want any part of it. He knew how he wanted his milk and that's the way he did it!
Months have now passed and Paxson is a very large, very white, blue-eyed, deaf alpaca. That's right; I hadn't mentioned earlier that he is deaf. We later learned of a genetic situation where each parent carries a white allele in their DNA, that when combined, brings a 25% chance of blue-eyed, white, deaf alpacas. Knowing what we do now, we can make different breeding decisions, but regardless of what the reasoning, our Paxson is amazing! He has learned some sign language. He knows when you wave your arm to come into the pen, he comes; he knows the corralling signs. We will continue to work with him and find ways to communicate with him when sound doesn't work.
Although Paxson is currently the youngest alpaca on the farm, he is also one of the largest. At only 8 months, he is 110 pounds. He has grown at an incredible rate and appears to be healthy and happy in all ways. His conformation is excellent, his fiber is luxurious and his demeanor is outstanding. He was recently weaned from his Mom and is still dealing with some separation anxiety. It doesn't seem right working so hard to get him to nurse and then working so hard to make him stop. But that's nature and we have to do what's best for them, both mom and baby.
Paxson will not be a breeding male on our farm. Somewhere between age 1 ½ and 2 he will be gelded. He will be a permanent member of our herd. We look forward to many, many happy years with Paxson. He is an inspiration to us and we believe he possesses many spiritual, mystical qualities. Come to the farm and meet Paxson for yourself. You'll see what we mean!