Llama Love | Spring 2007 Out Here Magazine
Long-ago glimpse of the long-neck critter fuels Sandra Reynolds' passion
On a warm Oklahoma day, as daytime temperatures start to inch toward triple digits, deep green waters fill a pool surrounded by shade trees.
A long-long necked critter, body mostly submerged, scans the pond's edges. The gaze finds a scatter of its wooly brethren, complete with pert, upward-pointed ears and watchful, intelligent eyes.
Here, just north of the Red River and about a 90-minute drive from the Dallas suburbs, it's a toss-up as to what's more out of the ordinary: a drought-defiant pond or a herd of llamas.
On Lone Star Ranch, though, Sandra Reynolds makes the unusual seem natural. That was the idea when she and her attorney husband, Homer, bought the nearly 200 acres three years ago.
For her, the ranch represents little discoveries — a spring feeds the pond and a water expert claims it's pure enough to drink — and a passion for animals that first caught her attention as a child.
"I first saw a llama when I was 8 years old," she says. "We were riding around outside San Antonio in my parents' car."
In the decades since that childhood glimpse, Reynolds has accumulated 175 llamas, along with a few longhorn cattle, donkeys, and three dogs.
Tending so many llamas is a big chore. Fences divide the farm into acres-deep sections. Mothers and the young, for example, have their own space while males wander another.