Tintagel tells us about shearing

I’d been told that shearing is no stroll in the hay, and having been sheared this week, I have to say I agree.

What happens is that travelling barber Ben shears us within an inch of our skin.  Less than an inch.  I’m practically bald.  And why?  All because She likes to use our gorgeous fibre to weave some llama wool rugs.  OK!  I know I was carrying round three years of coat, and yes, I know I was overheating last week when it was Oh So Hot, and yes, I know my coat would have become all matted if I hadn’t been sheared, and yes, I know it wasn’t our dear people who sheared us (cowards – didn’t want a few juicy ones heading their way), but, I mean to say, butcher Ben is a bit rough on a gel.

Grabs your ears without a so much as a ‘Do you mind?’ or ‘May I?’ and shears away.

And now, all my itchiness is gone.  Yes, there are pesky flies around and some nasty biters amongst them, but with fly spray and ointment I can keep the worst of these at bay for a week or so till my sleek new coat settles down.

I mean, aren’t I Beautiful!  Who knew I was this gorgeous grey all over?  And Ann Howe and Hazelton look lovely too.

Apparently Sweeney Todd will return in a few years, but if he can coiff me this well, then I really won’t mind.

More news from Golden Valley Llamas soon

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