Joey and Kilchis
Joey Medicine Eagle
ILR # 146616
gelding b. 4-18-1995
Concoliano x Tania
Lost Creek Ranger Kilchis
ILR # 201955
gelding b. 11-8-1998
Ranger Dusty x Hyder Llamas Sahalie
click on the photo to see more pictures of Joey and Kilchis on flickr®
[photo to be posted later ... Joey's terribly matted from complete neglect prior to returning here, and it's not yet consistently warm enough to shear him]
Joey and Kilchis were both kept intact for some time as stud prospects and later castrated (each for different reasons). They gravitated towards each other, although — in true llama fashion — they were still quite independent of each other as young adults.
Joey went through four homes his first three years. At his fourth home, he sustained permanent damage from a too-small halter that had been left on him and spent more time roaming the countryside than in his totally bare "pasture" that was mostly outlined by a fallen fence. We agreed to take him on as an emergency re-homing. He later washed out as a packer (despite adequate performance when intact, he tired far too easily after castration, so he was definitely not breeding quality after all), and we also had concerns based on this and various other clues that he may have been deprived of critical nutrients as a youngster, particularly selenium. Regardless, Joey was a retiree, suitable only as a companion and light day-hiker.
Kilchis was bred by us and seemed to be, in nearly every way, the worthy successor to his sire that we had long awaited. Instead, upon actual trail testing, he was found to be unsuitable as a stud or as a packer — both patellas were luxating mildly on every upgrade, making any sort of significant grade painful for him. This gave us the final piece of the puzzle in full sib Olallie's and maternal half-sib Jack's patellar issues: Sahalie must have had a patellar ligament defect or weakness that manifested in offspring whose rear limbs were properly aligned (unlike her own, which would have been classified as "cow hocked", and which incidentally kept her own patellas just where they needed to be). So Kilchis, too, was only suitable as a companion and flat-land dayhiker. Then, over the next few years, Kilchis's relatively mild (compared to the overall llama population) overweight tendencies caused his front pasterns to nearly flatten. No more hiking for Kilchis, period.
In 2008, Peanut's breeders (who had earlier purchased her dam, Dallys) contacted us, asking if we would take in their three females (Peanut, Dallys, and Summer) because they'd decided to stop breeding llamas to concentrate on goats. They asked us if we possibly had a handleable gelding that would be a good companion for their remaining gelding. Joey and Kilchis, whom we had intended to place together even though they were not spending as much time together anymore, were the only two retirement geldings we had ... and these people only wanted one, not two. We knew Kilchis was probably too assertive; we also thought that Joey, a sensitive and intelligent fellow, deserved a home with fewer animals, more individual handling, and with a proven ability to keep llamas' weight down (Joey had steadily been putting on too many pounds post-castration). And so we sent Joey up to Friday Creek Farm for retirement with the understanding that he was NOT a packer and also with the contingency that he would return here if he proved incompatible or if, for any other reason and at any other time, they no longer wanted him. You would think that people who'd called us first to find a good home for three females, with one of the pair having served as an animal welfare officer in the past, and also actively volunteering for a llama rescue organization at the time would be a safe home, right? We sure did, and so did everyone who knew all the involved parties. A lot of people were shocked at what transpired only two years later.
On March 29, 2010, we received a phone call from Niki Kuklenski (JNK Llamas). One of her contacts had spotted Joey at a meat livestock auction yard (being billed as a pack llama), sent her a cell phone photo, and Niki recognized Joey immediately. Niki proceeded to further verify his identity with the auction yard through his sellers' names. A true friend and sincerely dedicated to llama welfare, Niki (unable to leave work that day) persisted until she located a proxy to bid for her and had Joey bought back for us — now nearly 15 years old, fat, soft pasterns (probably permanently damaged), coat throughally unkempt, overgrown toenails, and uncharacteristically nervous and jumpy. Niki immediately brought him up-to-date on vaccinations and parasite control (the cold weather meant his neglected coat would have to wait), and she also housed him until we could fetch him that weekend despite her maxed-out accomodations, thanks to winter.
On April 3, 2010, Joey Medicine Eagle came home to live here for good. Joey knew at once where he was and remembered many of our llamas, but he spent his first day back making it clear that he wanted to live with Kilchis in particular, and that he wouldn't be happy until they were together again.
Surely spending the day at the auction yard and being roughed up by it's infamously uncaring, abusive personnel was a nasty experience for such a sensitive llama as Joey, but his behavior change is so severe that we are sure it goes much deeper than the experiences of a single day. Joey is clearly traumatized — shell-shocked, if you will — and his life energy is distinctly fragile. His physical body is also affected — his walk is not the confident stride we'd known for years, but instead wobbling and uncertain, pointing to an extended period of malnourishment. Even though Joey really wanted to return to his old pasture with Kilchis at first, we have limited their time together because Kilchis is strong and energetic and Joey could be overwhelmed easily. Now that Joey has gotten past his strong initial desire to have everything "just the way it used to be", he has found he appreciates Sydney's geriatric quietude most right now.
We will never know what actually transpired, and why a previously good home (at least to all outward appearance and by all prior actions) not only turned so terrible but also nearly resulted in Joey's untimely death (had he actually been bought by someone else "as a packer" and not died at their home or on the trail, you can bet he'd have been returned to the auction to be sold for dog meat).
We did, out of courtesy, contact Friday Creek Farm and received first a lie (that Joey and two older goats were placed with a newly retired couple who were thrilled with them) and then, when confronted with the facts (ie, Joey was purchased at the meat auction and is now here, not with any "newly retired couple"), the response was a great deal of finger-pointing, more lies ("Joey was jumping fences", completely impossible given his weak physical condition when he returned here), and a host of pitifully inadequate rationalizations for what boiled down to the fact that they took the easiest way out with the greatest monetary return with no consideration for Joey let alone the humans involved. The contradictions and multitude of excuses in the response we received makes it clear that they knew they were doing the wrong thing all along. Needless to say, we can no longer recommend any involvement, let alone doing business, with the now proven dishonest and unethical people at Friday Creek Farm. It is terrible that Joey had to suffer, but hopefully the suffering that brought the ugly truth about Friday Creek Farm out in the open will serve to warn others and prevent any more deceits and tragedies.
You can be sure of one thing — Joey and Kilchis will live out their lives here together and in safety. They may not have the amount of attention and mental stimulation that they would receive if placed out as a companion pair, but we just cannot risk that Joey in particular would ever again suffer through any more severe trauma nor, as he ages, should he lose the comforting and familiar companionship of his long-time friends such as Kilchis, who himself is vulnerable to the dangers typically brought about by indequate appreciation if he were entrusted to anyone else.
Joey came to us without his papers — just a partial oral history and his call name, "Joey." We set about tracking down his registration and trying to select what we felt would be a more suitable name for a special llama. Joey didn't like any of our choices — he considered them too high-falutin — and wanted to know what was wrong with "Joey," which he liked. When we finally got Joey's papers and saw his original registered name —"Ixidro D'Concoliano" — we understood completely. "Joey" would be just fine!
The original Kilchis was the head of a Killamook (Tillamook) Indian band along the northwest Oregon coast when the white settlers arrived. Kilchis was markedly tall and dark, and there is still dispute over whether he was part or entirely Negro. He was described as "strong as three men and intelligent as ten," and was known to be fair, just, and peaceful in his dealings with his own people and with the whites.