We love our alpacas. We feed them, clean up after them, trim their toenails, keep meticulous records, and worry about them. But I often wonder, in those quiet moments when they’re glaring at me from under their fringes, what they would say if they could talk. Not the hums, not the snorts, not the passive-aggressive spitting, I mean actual words.
So, here are the ten things I’m fairly sure your alpacas wish you knew, because, frankly, they’ve been trying to tell you all along.
1) “Feel My Back”
Yes, we know you peer at your alpacas from across the field like a Victorian lady checking for signs of consumption. But unless your alpaca is alarmingly skeletal or inflated like a woolly soufflé, you won’t know their body condition without putting hands on them.
Alpacas hide weight loss under a glorious coat of lies (i.e., fleece). The only reliable way to assess their condition is to feel along the spine and ribs, specifically over the lumbar vertebrae.
They’re not fat. They’re not fluffy. They’re possibly underweight and politely dying in silence because you haven’t given them a squeeze this month.
They wish you’d get over your Britishness and just touch them already.
2) “I Don’t Know What That Bucket Means Today”
Humans are maddeningly inconsistent. One day the blue bucket means delicious feed. The next, it’s got powdered wormer in it. The day after that, it’s empty but you rattle it anyway, like some sort of cruel piñata of disappointment.
Alpacas aren’t stupid, but they are cautious. Once a bucket becomes associated with betrayal, you’ve got a lot of work to do to repair that trust.
So if they hang back from the bucket you swear has tasty bits today, don’t take it personally. Just… maybe stop lying about buckets.
3) “I’m Not Being Difficult. I’m Afraid”
Alpacas are prey animals. Their lives revolve around Not Being Eaten. So when you suddenly corner them, wave a halter near their face, or approach from behind, they react as evolution demands: with suspicion and potential violence.
That’s not stubbornness. That’s fear.
Alpacas wish you knew the difference, and wish you’d slow down, give them space, and maybe not treat every handling session like you’re trying to catch the last train home.
4) “Just Because I Let You Touch Me Yesterday Doesn’t Mean I Want To Today”
One day your alpaca is lying in the sun, humming gently while you stroke her neck. The next she looks at you like you’ve just farted in a lift. Welcome to camelid consent culture.
Affection is earned, not owed, and it resets daily.
Your alpacas wish you’d understand that their tolerance isn’t a personality flaw or a sign of regression. It’s just their nature. Respect their moods, and they’ll reward you with moments of shocking tenderness. Eventually.
5) “We Are Having a Social Crisis, and You Are Ignoring It”
Herd dynamics matter. A lot. Every day in your paddock is basically an alpaca soap opera. Someone’s challenging the top girl. Someone’s decided they don’t like that cria anymore. Someone’s sulking because they got spat on during breakfast.
And guess what? These things affect health, behaviour, and access to food.
If you’re not watching for the quiet shifts, who’s standing alone, who’s suddenly pushy, who’s dropped down the pecking order, you’re missing the emotional weather of your herd.
Your alpacas wish you’d tune in. They’re subtle, but they’re not silent.
6) “I Can Hear You Before You’ve Opened the Gate”
Alpacas have astonishing hearing. They can pick up the clink of a feed scoop from across the valley, the jingle of your keys, and the opening of a gate latch at 200 metres.
They also hear stress in your voice. They know if you’re rushing. They can hear the car door, the kids arguing, the halter snap clicking ominously in your pocket.
And they make choices based on those sounds. Calm tone? They might come closer. Harassed energy? They’re off.
They wish you’d remember: they’re always listening.
7) “Your Schedule is Not My Problem”
You’ve booked the shearer. The vet’s coming at noon. You’ve taken the day off work to halter-train the weanlings. And your alpacas? They don’t care.
They will lie down at the exact moment you want them to move. They will break into a gallop when you’re holding a bucket, or a clipboard. They will stage a protest pee-in-place right before a meet and greet.
This isn’t malice. It’s the cosmic balance of the alpaca-human relationship: they provide fleece and fascination, and in return, you learn humility.
Your alpacas wish you’d stop taking it personally.
8) “I Don’t Understand Why You’re Doing That”
Alpacas thrive on routine. They notice changes. So when you suddenly change feed brands, rearrange paddocks, move the shelter, or start brushing someone who’s never been brushed before, they don’t go, “Ah, a new phase in my management plan.”
They go: “What is happening and am I about to die?”
They wish you’d give them warning. Introduce changes gradually. Let them sniff the new hay before assuming they’ll eat it. Let them see the new gate open and close. Model it. Make it boring.
You think they’re fussy. They think you’re chaotic.
9) “I Know More Than You Think I Do”
Alpacas aren’t circus performers, but they’re smart in their own way. They know where the molehills or cracks in the ground are. They remember where the wasps nested last year. They know which humans are clumsy and which ones bring food.
They watch you. They test you. They solve problems you didn’t know existed (like how to unlatch the gate).
When you treat them like dumb livestock, they either get offended or quietly start plotting.
Your alpacas wish you’d give them credit. And maybe stop underestimating the one with the sleepy face, she’s the ringleader.
10) “We Know You Love Us. We’re Just Playing Hard to Get”
Alpacas aren’t demonstrative like dogs, and they’re not emotionally available like cats. Their affection is a slow burn. A subtle shift. A silent act of trust.
But make no mistake, they know you. They recognise your voice. They remember when you sat with them during illness. They notice when you stay calm in a storm. They see the little rituals, the daily routines, the gentle hands.
And while they may never nuzzle your face or leap into your lap, they show their affection in ways you can learn to see:
- Standing near you without being asked
- Choosing to lie down while you work
- Humming softly as you walk past
- Resting their head on your shoulder for 1.3 seconds before walking away like nothing happened
They love you. They just do it in alpaca. They wish you knew that was enough.
Final Thoughts: The Secret Contract
Owning alpacas is like signing an invisible contract written in hummed clauses and silent conditions. It says:
“You will not always understand me. But if you try, and you listen, and you touch my back to feel my spine without complaining about the mud, I will trust you. And that trust will be worth more than all the cuddles in the world.”
Your alpacas don’t want perfection. They want awareness. Quiet observation. The willingness to keep learning.
They don’t need you to be an expert. They just want you to notice what they’ve been trying to tell you all along.
If you’re just starting out, and thinking of getting alpacas? The British Alpaca Society offers free resources and a directory of accredited breeders. Also consider joining the South East Alpaca Group, a volunteer group affiliated with the BAS, who support alpaca and llama enthusiasts across the South East of England.
Message from the South East Alpaca Group committee. We know that no two herds, or herd owners, are the same. We hope you found this article useful and if you’ve got ideas, suggestions, corrections, or just a different way of doing things, we’d love to hear from you. Our goal is to offer the most accurate, practical, and useful advice possible, and that works best when we all pitch in. Drop us a line at committee@southeastalpacagroup.org.uk and help us make our articles better.