Homeopathy for Animals - Llama stories:
How homeopathy helped them get back on track - September 2004

by Betsy Harrison, DVM, CVH

How would you like to live next door to llamas? Well, that’s my situation. My neighbor raises them, and I’ve found that llamas actually make very good neighbors. They’re highly intelligent and a lot of fun to watch. Members of the camelid (camel) family, llamas are sure-footed and strong. Historically, they’ve been used as beasts of burden or pack animals, but in the United States they’re raised primarily for their wool.

As a veterinarian I work primarily with small animals, but my neighbor occasionally consults me for her llamas. She’s seen homeopathy work well for them; ditto for her dogs, cats, chickens, horses, child, and herself! I have found that llamas and their cousins, the alpacas, are wonderfully responsive to homeopathic remedies. I think this may be partly because they are fairly recent arrivals to our country and our medical system, so they haven’t been vaccinated over successive generations. American cats, dogs, and farm animals, however, have been subject to ever-increasing numbers of vaccinations, so we’ve seen a huge increase in chronic disease and a subsequent shortening of expected life spans over the past twenty or thirty years.

I’d like to share with you a couple of stories about treating my neighbor’s llamas.

SunTrail, the surly llama

SunTrail is a seven-year-old male llama who has lived with my neighbor for three years. He received vaccinations from his previous owners, but has had none since he’s been with my neighbor.

SunTrail was always difficult to catch and halter. It would take 10 or 15 minutes to get the halter on him because he would run or turn away. Although he worked reasonably well with his young handler, Jesse, he always seemed very distrustful, allowing strangers to pet him only if he was held by his handler. Even then, he would appear tense and was sensitive to being touched about his tail and his hind quarters. If you dared to touch his back legs or tried to pick up his back feet, he would kick viciously.

He won’t budge

Jesse would take SunTrail to various shows and competitions: county and state fairs, 4-H Club shows, and regional llama club shows. Since llamas are traditionally used to transport loads over long distances, part of the competition always includes going over bridges to see how the animal handles different trail situations. During competitions, SunTrail would refuse to walk over bridges. When it was time to approach the judges’ bench, he would plant his feet and not walk up. Compared to other llamas at these shows, you could tell that SunTrail was quite tense.

SunTrail’s overall health had seemed good, but one day when my neighbor was grooming SunTrail, she discovered a hard knot in the center of the left side of his neck. It was 1.5 to 2 inches in diameter with a central crater. There had been some discharge, as evidenced by matted and hardened fur over the lesion. It felt as though he had a stick in his hair. The discharge looked clear and yellow, more like serum than pus.

Thinking that this might be an abscess or some kind of poor healing response from the skin—and also considering that it might be a lesion at the site of an old vaccination—I suggested that my neighbor give SunTrail Silica 30c, 3 times a day for 3 days. She later checked with the previous owner to see whether SunTrail had received vaccinations in the neck; he had not.

Silica has a reputation as a remedy that is helpful for boils or cystic lumps that are slow to heal. Clarke’s Materia Medica states: “It will also resolve indurations [hardening of an area] left after suppuration.” It can also be useful for bad effects from vaccinations. We watched and waited, but there was no appreciable effect from the Silica.

About a week later, suddenly and without obvious provocation, SunTrail broke down the fence and attacked the other male llama, who had only been with my neighbor for about a week. SunTrail had been spitting at the new male but had never made aggressive moves. Now, though, he was in quite a state: he pinned his victim and bit him.

Exquisite sensitivity

Two days after that, I went to look at SunTrail’s knot. An interesting thing about the lesion: although you could touch it and feel it without upsetting him, SunTrail would become highly agitated if you lifted the matted fur that covered it. This sensitivity to the slightest uncovering, coupled with SunTrail’s angry outburst, led me to think of the homeopathic remedy Hepar sulph. This remedy is well known for its effectiveness in cases of irritability and also exquisite sensitivity. Those who need it are typically very sensitive to touch and to any slight draft of air. It has an affinity for abscesses and skin lesions with suppuration. In Clarke’s Materia Medica, we find the following about the Hepar sulph disposition: “a sort of ferocious spleen, as though one could murder a man in cold blood.”

We gave SunTrail a single dose of Hepar sulph 30c. The very next day, the llama was much calmer, relaxed, and easier to halter. This effect lasted for about three weeks, but then he started to become agitated and difficult to halter again. We repeated Hepar sulph 30c, but noticed no change in SunTrail. After three days of watching and waiting, we decided to increase the potency, giving him a single dose of Hepar sulph 200c. Results were immediate: SunTrail again became more relaxed and easy to halter and has remained that way for the past two-and-a-half months.

Big change: no more kicking!

My neighbor reported that the lesion on SunTrail’s neck remained unchanged for some time. Eventually, she stopped paying attention to it. When she did check it again for the purposes of this article, she was surprised to find that it was gone without a trace. Also dramatically gone is SunTrail’s angry, obstinate disposition. He is now amenable to haltering by his trainer and is relaxed and approachable by strangers who can walk up and pet him. No longer does he kick when approached from or touched on the rear. You can even run your hand down his back legs without his reacting. And, oddly enough, he no longer balks at going over bridges.

This case supports Constantine Hering’s theory about the “Direction of Cure,” that is, that healing begins on the inside (SunTrail’s disposition) and then moves to the outside (the skin lesion). Other directions of healing may be from top to bottom or from the most vital organs to the least vital, according to Hering.

Interestingly, BlackHawk, the male llama who was so rudely attacked in his own pen, turned aggressive toward SunTrail in the days following the incident. After a single dose of Staphysagria 30c—the pre-eminent remedy for disruptions which occur as a consequence of invasion of personal space—BlackHawk’s disposition returned to its previous easy-going nature, and he has needed no further treatment.

Poor Wally can’t nurse

Katie is a 10-year-old female llama who has been with my neighbor for three years. Very little is known of her previous history, other than the fact that she’d had regular vaccinations before coming to her present situation and that she’d had a stillborn cria (baby llama).

Katie was 8 and living on my neighbor’s farm when she birthed Wally. The pregnancy and birthing process all seemed to go smoothly. Both dam and cria appeared to thrive for the first few weeks. When Wally was 5--6 weeks old, however, he was trying to nurse constantly, and Katie was spitting at him and walking away. After observing this behavior for a while, my neighbor checked carefully and found that no milk was being released from Katie’s udder. This was a disheartening situation, as my neighbor did not wish to bottle-feed Wally for fear of creating “rogue male syndrome.” This problematic syndrome can occur in llamas who are handled too much when young: the male comes to view humans as part of his herd and may try to assert dominance over them.

I looked in the repertory under the rubric (symptom), “Chest, milk, disappearing.” I considered using the rubric, “Chest, milk, absent,” but I thought that might mean that the milk had never appeared after delivery, so the former rubric seemed more appropriate. In perusing the remedies listed, I thought Calcarea carbonica (calcium carbonate) deserved strong consideration, given that Katie was a large-boned, mostly placid animal and had been a good and attentive mother until her milk dried up. She had been nursing the cria for some weeks, and I reasoned that perhaps there was a calcium metabolism/utilization problem.

We gave Katie a single dose of Calcarea carbonica 200c. The morning afterwards, my neighbor was happy to see that Wally was nursing greedily, with milk running out the sides of his mouth and down his neck. Wally continued to nurse for another five months without problems, then was removed from Katie’s side for weaning

Veterinarian Betsy Harrison, with llama neighbor SunTrail,
and llama handler, Jesse.

A soft, shiny coat, too!

During the following months, it was noted that Katie’s coat, which had been quite rough and coarse, became smoother, softer, and silkier. This change began on her head and neck, then progressed to the rest of the body. How delightful to see, once again, the Direction of Cure following the course predicted by noted homeopath, Constantine Hering! And how reassuring to know that homeopathy can help all creatures, even llamas.

About the author:

Betsy Harrison, DVM, CVH, graduated from Oklahoma State Veterinary College in 1983. After ten years of conventional practice, she found her way to homeopathy. Her studies have been via the School of Homeopathy, Devon, correspondence course. She is a graduate of the Academy of Veterinary Homeopathy and a certified veterinary homeopath. She sees clients and does telephone consultations from her home in Fischer, Texas. She can be reached at: drbetsy@gvtc.com