It's a question I've been asked countless times over the years, although perhaps not quite as often these days. Sometimes it's someone looking for a few animals to start a herd, sometimes it's a request for a young breeding pair, and quite often it's simply, “Do you have any babies for sale?”
It's a perfectly reasonable question to ask someone who raises alpacas. After all, breeding and selling livestock is a business, and when I first started farming alpacas, that was very much the business I thought I was getting into. The interesting thing is that while the question hasn't changed much over the years, my answer certainly has.
When I first got into alpaca farming, the industry was largely built around breeding, showing and selling animals. Alpacas were marketed as the huggable, no-kill livestock investment. Of those words, only one is actually accurate. Livestock. But like so many others, I bought into the dream... and the fantasy. I was going to breed beautiful alpacas with impressive pedigrees and exceptional fleece, and people would practically line up to hand me money for their offspring.
Well, that was the theory.
Now, I wasn't exactly sitting around waiting for it to happen... I was proactive. I took courses, attended seminars and tried to learn everything I could about the business. I recall one course in particular... it had the rather memorable title “Bought ’em, Barned ’em, Now I Gotta Sell ’em.” Yep, that was the plan.
Jumping Right In
In the fall of 2009, I'd spent considerable time researching and selecting the animals that would form the foundation of my breeding program. I studied pedigrees, fleece histograms, show records and family histories, looking for animals with the genetics and fleece characteristics I wanted to build upon. I didn't buy them all from one breeder, or even one province. My carefully selected animals came from breeders in Ontario, British Columbia and Manitoba.
I wasn't moving to PEI until January 2010, and most of those animals wouldn't be arriving until the following August.
However, patience has never been one of my strengths.
So when a herd of 30 alpacas came up for sale in Nova Scotia in late November, not far from the Confederation Bridge, I bought the whole lot.
They weren't animals I'd individually selected with the same scrutiny as my foundation herd, but they were quality livestock and gave me something I otherwise wouldn't have had for quite some time: alpacas I could offer for sale immediately. After all, my foundation animals weren't arriving until August, and I'd still have to breed them and wait for their offspring. In the meantime, I could begin selling animals, building my herd and producing fleece for yarn.
I immediately listed some of them for sale, and wouldn't you know it, just before Christmas a new breeder in Ontario bought a couple, sight unseen. In fact, they drove all the way to Nova Scotia on New Year's Eve to pick them up directly from the original owner. This was two weeks before I even left for PEI, and I'd never so much as met the animals myself!
Well, this was going to be a breeze.
Or so I thought.
What I discovered when I arrived on Prince Edward Island was that the market for breeding alpacas was much smaller than I'd anticipated. There was one small show, and very few people were prepared to pay even a fraction of what top-quality breeding animals could command elsewhere, regardless of how impressive their pedigrees or fleece might be.
To build a market for high-end breeding stock, I would have needed to travel off-Island, compete in shows, and spend years establishing a reputation for my breeding program. That's a substantial investment of time and money, with no guarantee of a return. As I've written before, the business I eventually built around alpaca fibre turned out to be rather different from the one I'd originally imagined. Nevertheless, for a while I continued to believe that breeding alpacas for the purposes of selling them could become a viable part of the business.
When Selling Alpacas Got Complicated
And then one day, someone called and said they wanted to buy five females. I thought my luck had finally changed.
The buyer was new to alpacas, and I spent considerable time helping them prepare. We discussed facilities, feeding, herd management and the responsibilities that come with keeping these animals. I visited their property, invited them to participate in shearing day, and made myself available for questions. I genuinely believed I was helping someone get off to a good start, but unfortunately, things didn't turn out that way.
Despite the preparation and advice, serious problems developed. Animals became ill, some died, and eventually the remaining alpacas were sold again. I later learned that every one of them had died prematurely. It was a heartbreaking outcome.
I won’t go into the details, but that experience changed how I approached selling alpacas. I came to understand that no matter how carefully I select new owners, I cannot control what happens to my animals once they leave my care.
Meanwhile, the business itself was evolving in a different direction. The market for breeding stock hadn't developed as I'd originally hoped, but I was discovering other opportunities in the fibre my animals produced. These days, selling alpacas isn't a regular part of my business model. Green Gable Alpacas is primarily a fibre farm, and while I'm still every bit as interested in genetics and breeding decisions as I was in the beginning, the goal has changed. I'm not breeding animals in the hope that someone will buy them. I'm breeding animals whose fleece I want to work with.
Finding the Right Home
Over the years, I've continued to receive inquiries, often from people looking for babies or a young breeding pair. And I understand the interest. Everyone has to start somewhere, and I certainly didn't know everything when I bought my first alpacas! But those conversations often become an opportunity to talk about what alpaca ownership actually involves.
They're herd animals with particular social needs, and a male and female don't necessarily make an appropriate little herd. Breeding is considerably more involved than putting a boy and girl together and waiting for a baby, and young alpacas aren't simply miniature adults ready to head off and start a new life on their own. I've written about some of the things people really need to know before bringing alpacas home, and I'm always happy to share what I've learned with someone genuinely interested in raising them.
It's easy to see the attraction. People see these beautiful, fluffy creatures with their big eyes and ridiculous hairdos and imagine them wandering around a picturesque pasture, perhaps coming over for a cuddle now and then. But as I've explained before, they're just not that into you. The reality of alpaca ownership is rather different. They're livestock, not stuffed toys with legs, and caring for them means understanding their nutrition, health, shelter, social needs and the responsibilities that come with keeping an animal that may live well into its twenties.
I once had an inquiry from someone looking to purchase alpacas who mentioned that their existing alpacas were still young but had “outlived their usefulness” and were being sold. I remember being rather taken aback by that comment. These weren't breeding animals reaching the end of their reproductive years, nor were they being raised for commercial fibre production. They were simply animals kept for the enjoyment of others. So what, exactly, did it mean that they'd outlived their usefulness? I didn't know, and perhaps there was more to the situation than I understood, but the comment left me uncomfortable enough that I politely declined the sale.
Fortunately, not every experience has been like that. I've sold alpacas to people who have given them wonderful homes, including an experienced breeder who no longer has any interest in breeding or showing but simply enjoys having them in their barn. I've sold to that farm more than once, and I know those animals are in capable hands. I've also sold a small herd of females to a family who had no previous farming experience at all. They sought me out, asked questions, took the responsibility seriously, and have proven to be exceptional caretakers. Their animals are well loved and beautifully cared for, and knowing that brings me enormous satisfaction. If anything, they've reminded me that experience is valuable, but a willingness to learn and a commitment to doing right by the animals matter just as much, if not more.
Occasionally, the opportunity arises to place an alpaca in another home, and when it does, I'm thoughtful about where they go. A good home isn't necessarily determined by whether someone wants to breed, show, or produce beautiful fleece. It's about understanding the animals, meeting their needs and accepting the responsibility that comes with having them.
And sometimes, even the promise of a wonderful home isn't enough to make selling the right decision.
Which Brings Me to Cherry
Cherry will soon celebrate her 22nd birthday, and Pearl isn't far behind at nearly 21.
They're the last two remaining members of my original foundation herd, carefully selected from breeders in Ontario before I even moved to PEI. They've been here through just about everything... the early years when I was still figuring out what on earth I was doing, the breeding programs, the births, the losses, and the evolution of Green Gable Alpacas into the farm it is today.
Cherry has always been a cautious soul, and after 17 years together, she's only recently decided that accepting a carrot directly from my hand is worth the risk. I've always believed that respecting alpacas means accepting them for who they are, rather than expecting them to behave the way we'd like. Cherry's been a perfect lesson in that.
The other day, I watched her thoroughly enjoying a pumpkin I'd given her. There she was, perfectly content, in the only home she probably remembers. Imagine moving her now, at her age, to an unfamiliar farm with strange people, strange alpacas and entirely different routines. Even if someone offered her the very best care, what would she gain from it?
And it's not simply because Cherry and Pearl have been here since the beginning. Alteza is 17, and although she's only been with me for a couple of years, she'll spend the rest of her life here too. There comes a point when moving an animal, regardless of how wonderful the prospective home might be, simply isn't in its best interest. This is a working farm, and I don't pretend that every alpaca born or raised here will stay forever. But some have reached a stage in their lives when the kindest thing I can do is let them stay right where they are.
So, do I have any alpacas for sale? Sometimes. It depends on the alpaca, and it depends on who's asking.
As for Cherry, she's not going anywhere. At her age, she's earned the right to spend her days surrounded by familiar faces, familiar routines, and the occasional pumpkin. And after all we've experienced together, she's finally decided I might be trustworthy enough to accept a treat from time to time. I'd hate to interrupt that progress.