For some time now, I’ve wanted a couple of llamas. Two, to be exact. I have names for them already: Dolly and Lo. Llama Lo means “Why not?” in Hebrew. And Dolly, well, if you don’t get why I want to name my llama Dolly, then I don’t even know you.
I figure the llamas can pay for their upkeep by knitting sweaters out of their own wool. If you don’t think that makes perfect sense, then I don’t know what does. Please do not ask me about the problem of teaching llamas to knit. There are many fine people who can teach knitting. I will deal with the dyeing issue as I suspect llamas would think that sweaters are okay in brown and white and black only, which they ARE, but sometimes, you want a nice blue sweather. Or a purple one.
Why do I want llamas? Two, to be exact? Because I would really like to say, when people ask me what I do, that I keep llamas and play the ukulele. Also, I would like to sing to my llamas. Hava Nagila and, duh, Hello Dolly. Also, Little Grass Shack.
I would never dream of positing the merest inkling of a hint that pointed in the broadest interpretation of the general direction of advising you against owning llamas.
They are magnificent animals. They are placid, reassuringly sturdy and have a gentle look in their eye, but with a twinkling hint of suppressed violence, an air of being the best friend anyone could wish for, but burglars will get their faces masticated off.
Also, llamas now commonly work as world heritage site conservators. Look here for an example:
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/3a/Llama%2C_peru%2C_machu_picchu.jpg
So they can *definitely* knit. No sweat for them.