The
Story of Taro and the Clicker
A bad boy, turned good.
Written for the RMLA Journal, By Michael Shealy
When my wife Marlice and I first met Taro, his previous owner called us saying that she needed help with her two llamas. She was unable to remove the halter from one of them. She sounded quite disturbed about it, and asked if we could come over. She lived only a few miles from our ranch, so we went right over.
When we arrived, we asked some questions. How many llamas do you have?
"Two", came the answer, "a mother, and son.".
"How old are they?"
"She is ten, and he is almost three. She’s not a problem, but you have to wait and see him", she said. He has a halter on that he had when we got him, and I can’t take it off. That’s what I need help with, she continued.
"When did you get him?"
"Well, about a year ago", she said.
"He’s had this halter on for that long?", I asked.
"He’s kind of hard to handle, he’ll come right to the fence, but he won’t let you touch him or get near him….except to take the grain" she went on.
"Has he ever been with other llamas?"
"Just his mom", she said.
"OK, we’ll be glad to help you out, let’s go see them".
Taro was an impressive sight to see for anyone, especially someone who knows llamas. He was six feet six inches at the poll. All espresso colored, but just too tall. Definitely, the basketball player-type. We asked when he had been gelded, but she wasn’t sure. She had gotten them from a woman who had just the two of them together, and might have had him gelded at a year old. Ah, so there is where the tallness came from (we think), gelding before the testosterone comes on strong at 16-24 months. His sire is from a local ranch, and I know him to be of normal size and the mom looked normal too, but stood her distance. He, on the other hand, was right at the corral panel gate, with his neck stretching way over to get his nose in our faces. Interesting.
With his nose right in front of us, we noticed the halter, which was very tight around his muzzle, wearing all the hair off his nose and jaw. At this point I urged we all move into the pen, over objections of the owner. "He won’t let you near him", she warned. "The only way he will come near is if I give him grain". So, he ran big circles around us for a few minutes, and I said "get the grain". While she was gone, we tied a lead-rope to the top bar on the corral panel gate, and waited for her to return.
When she came with a coffee can of grain, he went "grain-crazy". He lunged toward her, banging the panel gate and jamming his head into the can, almost knocking her over. With his head over the panel, Marlice quickly looped the rope over his neck and tied it on the other side. Gotcha! He didn’t care, as long as that grain can was still there. I tried to unbuckle the halter, but there was so much memory in the nylon band, that I couldn’t do it. It was just too tight. Luckily, I had my toenail shears in my pocket, and quickly, cut the halter off. We then put a new halter on the boy, and let him go. When asked how often she took him out, she said "never".
Leaving her place, which was sort of a "hobby-farm" with at least one of everything (horses, goats, a donkey, an injured wild fox in a cage), we could see she had a big heart, and wanted him to be alright.
Almost two years later, we got another call from Taro’s owner.
"Would you come and get them?" she asked, sadly.
"Why, what’s wrong?", I asked.
"I just can’t handle him, and they are picking on my other animals and won’t let them into the barn."
Gulp, I swallowed hard. Do I want this guy around here [I thought to myself]. What will I do with him? My thoughts, and yes, my fears went flying. Was this guy going to be too much to handle? I told her that I would talk it over with Marlice, and call her back, thinking there may be a way out of this. The old "I'll check with my wife" ruse.
Of course, Marlice didn’t have a problem with bringing them to our place. I called her back and we went that afternoon. Catching and haltering the mom, was no problem, but again Taro ran the big circle route. So, out came the coffee can with grain. BANG! His head went into the can, I clipped the lead to the halter (the same one we had put on two years earlier) and away we went!
When he first felt the pull, he reared. I jerked down hard, then he slammed me with his neck on the way down and back to the grain can, BANG! Starting to get the idea now, I asked the owner to put down the can, she moves off toward the trailer. Taro followed, oblivious to the lead rope and me on the end. So, I yelled, "put the grain away!" She clung to the can and continued, with both arms wrapped around it. He is leaping at her, and wheeling around, hitting me with his head and neck. Then rearing, then leaping ahead again, to the can. Finally, I scream, "put the can down!". She steps out of the line to the trailer and puts down the can behind a rock. We go by her, he bucks a few times on the way to the trailer and, I leave him tied to a bicycle tire inner tube looped onto the outside of the trailer [like a shock absorber] while we talk and get ready to leave. Whew! He banged the tube a couple of times and stopped struggling.
At home, the mom went quietly in with our females and turned out to be a nice enough girl. Peaceful and friendly, she came to visit over the fence with humans often. Taro, on the other hand, went into a corral panel pen 15’ in diameter and about that far from the "big boys" pen. We figured that he needed some proper llama socializing, so we started there.
First, I took off the halter, giving myself an ultimatum, and a formidable task. "He will learn, and he won’t come out of this pen until he can be haltered again", I said to myself.
This seemed like a perfect time to try out the Click-and-Reward training method that we had recently seen on the video tape from Jim Logan. I didn’t have the slightest idea how else to start with Taro. Our other llama boys are "fairly-well" trained. Maybe not performance winners but in no real trouble. Taro was another story. I had to think for a couple of days to even start.
This guy was bad. He clucked (a scolding gesture) at everyone that happened by and when we approached, he would do a horizontal ear threat (threatening a spit), and if touched, would spit.
First thing, we deprived him of any grain just giving him his daily ration of grass hay and water. Next, I started wearing a ball cap and whenever he would cluck at me I would flip it off and pop him in the nose. I did this three or four times a day and the clucking started to decrease. After two weeks, I started going into the pen with him waving my ball cap, and walking around until he would walk in front of me. Ah, a little respect, please. Then, I stopped and using a rag tied to a stick, tried to get his attention. Taro was a stubborn guy though, he wouldn’t look, he was a "freezer". He plays no such games with humans, and another week went by (still doing the clucking & ball cap routine as required).
When I walked into his pen this time, he looked me up and down, looked at the rag, and he got his first Click-and-Reward. Whoa! Grain! Where is that rag? Every day after that for three months, we went a little further. One small step at a time.
From the rag we went to touching. At first, I could only get near, and I let that be enough for a couple of days. When he would threaten, I would back off immediately, and of course no Click-and-Reward, and I’d walk around the pen a few times. He would stand and watch me walk. When I stopped he would come toward me. I started by adding the voice command, "touch" with a light touch, then strokes, then shoulders, back, then upper legs.
Soon after the touch, I added the halter to the lessons. He ran from the halter, so I tied it to the corral and didn’t do anything for three days. After the delay in his grain feeding/training sessions he came quick to the halter and sniffed (C&R). From here, we started our daily sessions again. In two more weeks he was walking into the halter. In another week I had the strap all the way around. Then, two more days with the strap and he let me buckle it.
After he started nosing the halter pretty good, I expanded the lessons to three curriculums; touching, haltering and foot lifting. Foot lifting was just an extension of touching, but I added another verbal command, "foot". His clucking is now limited to women passers-by. Soon, that will pass, as well.
This training method is so powerful that I just can’t say enough about it. The more difficult the situation, the more powerful it seems to be. I love the idea that it can make a useful member of the llama community out of a probable reject with a serious behavioral problem. Click & Reward training Website: http://members.aol.com/Snowridge1/index.click.html
At this point we introduced him into our "big boys" pen with four adult geldings and a 6 year-old stud. He turned out to be a big baby, and dropped to the bottom of the pecking order immediately. Even below the younger, much smaller, and lightweight (300# @ 5' 8") "Lil Joe". No more clucking at humans. He appreciates our company. The bad boy is now one of our friendliest llamas. I can walk into his pen and he will come to me and let me touch him. At the "foot" command, he will give me a foot in the middle of his pen. His next step will be the pack-saddle and panniers.
When the saddle was first placed on his back, Taro was quiet and interested. Didn't shy or even walk away. He was quick to take the panniers once the pack was on and he was almost ready to hit the trail. Daily sessions with the packs and in a few he was carrying full weight without any resistance and even a little enthusiasm.
As part of our normal pack-training we had begun to train him to the 'tie-out'. A twenty foot lead made of 1" nylon rock-climbing webbing which is normally used to over night tie-out a llama in the back country. When confronted with the tie-out, again he was very cautious about every move and didn't even let the lead cross his shoulders or chest, always leaving the rope-webbing lying straight to the tie-down.
This day, we'd had Taro about 10 months, I went to the neighbors house for a bit while Taro was on the tie-out. When I came back 45 minutes later he was taking his last gasps of suffocation/strangulation. I rushed to him, I saw steam coming from his nostrils and tried to undo the wrapped lead around his neck. The lead was loose from the halter to his neck, but so tight and three times around his neck that I couldn't un-do it with my hands. I ran to the house for some cutters and a minute later sliced the lead off his neck. A puff of steam came out of his mouth again and his side heaved. I turned him and put his head downhill and began rib-cage compression CPR, and continued feverishly for an hour, to no avail.
Apparently, when he got up from rolling, he had become very comfortable on the tie-out, the lead was around his neck and he tried to paw at it and managed to get his foot through one loop, which slid up to his shoulder and tightened the loop around his neck.
Looking back on this day and Taro's death, it's hard for me to find the lesson to be learned. Many is the time when I've walked off and left a llama tied-out in this manner. Many times "we" llama owners who back-country pack them, use this method to 'store' them for periods. I certainly think about it long and hard, now. Ever since his death, we have a bell on each llama, and don't go anywhere we can't see them.
I loved that boy.
We feel that llamas are one of the most intelligent animals to
be domesticated by man and they can become a most rewarding and faithful friend.
We breed for and work toward athletic, intelligent and easy to handle llamas,
with the accent on what we feel makes a llama a lifetime pal; willingness to
work with humans.