Lessons from September 2026 Part 1
A REAL FARM STORY WITH AN IMPORTANT LESSON
Don't Wait - Just Don't
Glory's newborn cria, the fragility of the first 48 hours, and why subtle signs are everything
By Kathy (Mrs. YaYa) | YaYa's Alpaca Farm | September 8, 2026
"Subtle signs are not nothing. To an attentive owner, subtle signs can be everything."
A Beautiful Beginning in Dangerous Heat
On September 6 at 3:31 p.m., I was making my usual walk-through, checking our mothers-to-be and making sure everyone was handling the heat. It was 102 degrees outside, with a comfort index of 105.
When I reached the outdoor shelter, there was Glory - and beside her was a brand-new cria boy who had quite literally just hit the ground. He was still covered in the birth membrane, but his nose and face were clear. He gave the typical newborn cough, wiggled his little body, and began trying to move himself into the kush position.
Everything about his entrance into the world looked normal. The heat, however, was not.
We needed to move Glory and her baby into a temperature-controlled area quickly, but we also needed to remain calm. Moving too fast or creating too much commotion could confuse a maiden mother during those first important moments of bonding. After a little cleanup and a quick check that he was breathing well and stable enough to move, we carefully relocated both of them to the barn.
And just like that, Glory had given us another boy. It truly is the Year of the Boys at YaYa's Alpaca Farm: he was our fifth boy out of six crias born so far!
The Hungriest Little Boy
Glory was a maiden - a first-time mother - and she did not have much milk available yet. Her little boy, however, was already standing, THIRSTY, HUNGRY, and determined to nurse. He searched frantically for milk that simply was not there yet.
Thankfully, we keep frozen cow colostrum available for emergencies. We warmed some carefully and offered him a bottle.
Newborn crias generally take modest amounts at each feeding, with their total needs calculated according to body weight and divided into frequent feedings. I usually prepare about four ounces, knowing a newborn may waste some while learning how a bottle works. This time I accidentally poured six ounces. I was not terribly worried; surely he would leave some behind.
Well, this little boy needed only two attempts to understand the bottle. Then he was off to the races, sucking like a seasoned cria expert.
I looked down and - BAM! All six ounces were gone.
My eyes grew big. He had certainly made his feelings clear: this boy had arrived hungry! I also made a mental note for the next feeding: Mrs. YaYa, do not accidentally overfill the bottle.
One hour later, he began humming the unmistakable "Feed Me!" song. I prepared his next bottle, held it up, and down that one went, too. By the end of his first 12 hours, our 14-pound cria had consumed 36 ounces of colostrum. Based on the amount he had received, we believed he was in good shape - at least in theory.
THE FIRST ESSENTIAL LESSON A cria drinking plenty of colostrum does not prove that successful passive transfer has occurred. The colostrum must contain enough antibodies, it must be given early enough, and the cria's intestine must absorb those antibodies before gut closure progresses. The cria's temperature, strength, circulation, and overall health also affect the larger clinical picture. Blood testing is needed to evaluate whether adequate immune protection reached the bloodstream. |
His temperature was 99.9 degrees Fahrenheit - slightly lower than we wanted for a newborn. Considering the extreme outdoor heat, the move into a cooled environment, and a newborn's limited ability to regulate temperature, we knew he might need extra support and close monitoring.
Still, nothing about him looked alarming. Quite the opposite: he ran around like an expert, highly active, alert, and smart. What we knew could happen - but could not yet see - was beginning beneath the surface.
Monday Morning: The Subtle Signs Began
By Monday morning at approximately 11:00 a.m., everything began to change.
Our bright, energetic boy became lethargic. His appetite decreased, and his gums were brick red. Brick-red gums alone do not diagnose sepsis, but when they appear with lethargy, poor nursing, and a falling temperature in a newborn, they demand attention.
His feedings dropped from eagerly drinking full bottles to taking only one or two ounces. His suck weakened, and as soon as he finished a bottle, he lay flat on his side. His temperature had fallen to 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit - another serious warning sign in our experience. Newborns do not always develop a fever with infection; a sick neonate may instead become hypothermic as weakness and poor circulation progress.
Because his condition was changing quickly and sepsis was high on our list of concerns, I gave Excede under our established veterinary guidance. Excede is a long-acting ceftiofur antibiotic; medication use in alpacas is extra-label and must be selected and dosed with a veterinarian's direction.
As the day continued, he began acting as though his back or hind legs hurt. He was clearly uncomfortable. I could not know whether this represented pain, weakness, inflammation, or a systemic illness affecting his whole body, but it was another sign that this was no longer a cria we could simply watch and wait on.
At approximately 2:00 p.m., I called our two favorite veterinarians. Unfortunately, because it was Labor Day, both were out of town. Deep down, I had already suspected what our next step would be.
We were headed to the University.
The Two-and-a-Half-Hour Drive
After speaking with the University's emergency veterinarian, we agreed that we could be dealing with failure of passive transfer, sepsis, or both. Waiting was no longer an option. We loaded our little boy and began the two-and-a-half-hour drive.
We made the difficult decision not to take Glory.
By then, her cria was extremely sleepy and increasingly ill. Glory's milk had begun to come in, but he was too weak to nurse effectively. Persuading him to stand, search, latch, and nurse was no longer our greatest concern. He already knew how to drink from a bottle, so his nutritional support did not depend upon traveling with his mother.
Of course, separating a cria from his mother at barely 24 hours old carried emotional and bonding concerns. But we had to weigh those concerns against the much greater danger directly in front of us: he was fading. Doing nothing could end in his death.
We chose to give him the best possible chance to live.
Crias Are Fragile - and Alpacas Are Stoic
Crias are fragile, but alpacas of every age are also vulnerable because of their deeply stoic nature. As prey animals, they naturally hide weakness and illness for as long as they can.
The early signs may not look dramatic to someone unfamiliar with the animal: a cria drinks two ounces instead of six; his suck is slightly weaker; he lies down immediately after eating; his gums look different; his temperature drops by a degree; he hesitates before standing; or he simply is not moving with the same enthusiasm he showed a few hours earlier.
Individually, those changes may not look impressive. Together, they may be the beginning of a life-threatening emergency.
Owners know what is normal for their animals. We recognize their posture, appetite, activity, expression, and personality. When something feels different - even when we cannot yet explain why - that observation matters. With a fragile newborn, we may not have the luxury of waiting for an unmistakable symptom.
STRAIGHTFORWARD TEACHING By the time an alpaca clearly shows the world how sick it is, the illness may already be advanced. Subtle signs are not nothing. To an attentive owner, subtle signs can be everything. |
At the University: His Paperwork Became His Voice
When we arrived, the veterinary team was ready and immediately went to work. As I handed over our cria, I also handed them my paperwork: his complete documentation from the moment of birth until the moment we reached the hospital.
To me, that documentation is one of the most important things an owner can give a veterinary team. It included the birth time, birth weight, temperatures, feeding times and amounts, nursing behavior, activity, bowel movements, medications, and exactly when each change was first noticed.
The team seemed surprised by the detail and told us they do not usually receive that kind of documentation. But this was not just paperwork. It was his voice when he could not tell them what had happened. In an emergency, fear and exhaustion blur memories. A written timeline removes guesswork and shows the medical team how quickly the patient changed and what has already been done.
The Workup and the C1 Question
The team drew blood for a CBC, chemistry panel, total protein, and additional testing. They collected urine for a urinalysis, performed an ultrasound, placed an IV catheter, and brought a small animal crib to his bedside so he could be protected, supported, and closely monitored.
Sepsis remained the leading concern. There was no evidence of joint or bone involvement at that point, and his kidney values were reassuring, although more results were still pending.
The ultrasound revealed another problem: he was colicky, and his C1 compartment was not emptying normally.
Camelids have three stomach compartments: C1, C2, and C3. C1 is the first and largest compartment, but it does not yet function as the mature fermentation chamber seen in an adult. In a nursing cria, milk should be directed by the esophageal groove toward C3 for digestion. When illness causes gastrointestinal movement to slow, fluid and gas may accumulate where they should not, creating distention, discomfort, and feeding intolerance.
I reminded the team that our documentation showed he had received an enema at the farm. He passed meconium along with white, cottage-cheese-like material that was most likely partially digested milk or colostrum. However, passing material after an enema did not prove that the entire gastrointestinal tract was moving normally. An enema may evacuate material already in the rectum and lower colon while delayed motility, ileus, or an obstruction remains farther upstream.
One Problem Leads to Another
He was started on antibiotics, intravenous fluids, medication to protect his stomach, and medication to ease discomfort and help him rest. The team needed time for additional laboratory results and observation. They told us to go home, get some rest, and wait for their call. They expected him to remain hospitalized for at least a couple of days.
The midnight call brought the preliminary picture: early sepsis, concern for failure of passive transfer, gastrointestinal hypomotility, and dehydration.
His corrected total protein was later reported as 4.5 g/dL, not 6.0. That low result supported concern about inadequate passive transfer in the context of his age and illness, but total protein is a screening measurement, not a direct IgG measurement. Dehydration may also concentrate blood values, which means a seemingly better total-protein number can be falsely reassuring. The veterinary team therefore interpreted the number together with the full examination and remaining test results.
The dehydration surprised us. He had consumed a large amount of colostrum and had remained in a temperature-controlled room. But drinking fluid is not the same as successfully absorbing, circulating, and using it.
Sepsis can reduce gastrointestinal movement and disrupt circulation. Fluid sitting in a poorly moving digestive tract is not necessarily reaching the bloodstream where the body needs it. Inflammation may also cause fluid to shift out of the blood vessels. This creates a dangerous domino effect:
- Inadequate passive immunity leaves a newborn more vulnerable to infection.
- Infection may progress into sepsis.
- Sepsis can impair circulation and slow gastrointestinal movement.
- A slowing gut interferes with feeding tolerance and fluid absorption.
- Dehydration and weakness further impair gastrointestinal and overall function.
While He Was Gone, Glory Searched
And then there was poor Glory. She was lost.
She walked around humming and searching for the cria who had suddenly disappeared from her side. Watching her call for him made our decision hurt all over again.
I talk to our alpacas as I would talk to another human. They may not understand every word, but they understand a calm voice, familiar presence, and loving reassurance. I kept telling her, "Your baby is sick, Glory. The doctors are taking care of him. We did not take him away from you; we took him somewhere that can help him come home."
Rather than pushing Glory back into the pasture alone, I kept her with Wisdom and Wisdom's two-day-old cria. That curious little one occasionally tried to nurse from Glory, too. I decided that, for now, two mommies with one cria was better than one frightened new mother standing alone and searching for the baby she could not find.
Each time Glory became distressed and began humming, I stayed with her and explained again. She would listen to my voice, stop humming, and slowly settle. Perhaps she did not understand every word, but she understood that she was not alone.
Tuesday, September 8: A Hopeful Call
At 10:00 a.m. Tuesday, the University veterinarian called with the hopeful turn we desperately needed: our precious little boy had been active and humming throughout the night.
His blood sugar remained stable. He was interested in eating again and drank a full two-ounce bottle. Knowing this hungry boy, he probably would have taken more, but the team was controlling his feeding volume while making sure his digestive system could move and tolerate it.
He remained on antibiotics, and the team planned to treat his failure of passive transfer - the missing immune protection his body needed. The next steps included reassessing his white blood cell count, repeating the C1 ultrasound, and confirming that there was no meconium obstruction.
If those findings were reassuring and his improvement continued, he might be able to come home the following day.
We were not completely out of the woods, but compared with the weak, sleepy cria we had carried through the hospital doors, this was wonderful news.
He was standing.
He was humming.
He was drinking his bottle.
Most importantly, he was still fighting.
Don't Wait - Just Don't
If there is one word every alpaca owner must remember about crias, it is fragility.
When something does not feel right, get help. Do not wait for subtle signs to become dramatic. Do not wait for tomorrow. Do not wait and hope.
Notice everything and document everything:
- What you observed and the exact time you first noticed it
- How the alpaca was behaving and how that differed from normal
- Changes in appetite, nursing, posture, activity, urine, or bowel movements
- Temperature, weight, heart rate, and respiratory rate when available
- What your veterinarian instructed you to do
- The name and concentration of every medication
- The exact amount, route, date, and time it was given
- How the alpaca responded afterward
Do not rely on memory during an emergency. Fear, exhaustion, and stress make hours and details run together. Written documentation gives the veterinarian a timeline, helps prevent medication errors, and shows how quickly the patient is changing.
Build Your Team Before the Emergency
Make certain you have veterinarians who understand camelids. Before an emergency, identify your regular veterinarian, a backup veterinarian, and the nearest university or referral hospital willing and equipped to treat alpacas. If a veterinary school is not close, call ahead and ask what consultation, referral, or emergency resources are available in your region. Availability and policies differ, so make that plan before you need it.
Find a trusted mentor, too. Build a relationship with an experienced alpaca owner or established farm that has cared for many alpacas and crias. Chances are, they have been there, done that, and learned something valuable along the way.
An experienced owner may recognize a subtle warning, help you organize information, suggest useful questions, or tell you plainly, "This cannot wait. Call the veterinarian and start driving." A mentor does not replace a camelid-knowledgeable veterinarian; that person becomes another valuable part of your support system.
REMEMBER Know your veterinarian. Know your backup. Know your emergency hospital. Know your university resources. Know the experienced alpaca owners you can call. Emergencies are not the time to begin building your team. |
For Now, We Remain Hopeful
So far, our precious little boy is improving. We are not out of the woods, but we are moving in the right direction.
God willing, he will come home tomorrow to be reunited with his mom and welcomed into his own special comfort suite, where he will be closely watched, thoroughly spoiled, and surrounded by more love than one little cria could possibly imagine.
I will continue to share updates as his story unfolds - the good, the difficult, and everything in between. These stories matter because they help all of us learn, prepare, and become better advocates for the animals entrusted to our care.
For now, we are hopeful. We are grateful. And we are praying that tomorrow brings our little boy home.
Much love,
Kathy
Important Educational Note
I am not a veterinarian. This story shares our farm's experience to help owners recognize concerns and have better conversations with licensed veterinarians. It is not a diagnosis, prescription, or substitute for veterinary examination. Medication choices and doses must be determined by a veterinarian who can evaluate the individual alpaca's weight, age, condition, symptoms, history, and legal medication-use requirements.
Sources and Further Reading
- Merck Veterinary Manual. Overview of Management of the Neonate in Large Animals. Updated June 2026.
- Dolente BA, Lindborg S, Palmer JE, Wilkins PA. Culture-Positive Sepsis in Neonatal Camelids: 21 Cases. Journal of Veterinary Internal Medicine.
- S. Food and Drug Administration. Ceftiofur crystalline free acid (Excede) drug information and approved labeling.