R and J in the USA

We stepped out of our van at the Alive N’ Fuzzy Alpaca Farm in Bowling Green, Kentucky, to the greeting of Eileen and her dog Peaches.

Five foot two with braided blond hair, Eileen looked to be in her early seventies. Ambling toward us in work-worn boots, she wore a long-sleeved tie-died shirt tucked into weathered jeans, her leather clasped with a proud buckle. With a sturdy frame, wise eyes, and an easy manner, Eileen had a quiet – but obvious – confidence. She was smart and capable, the kind of person who knows both mental and physical labor. This was all clear by the time we said hello.

In the twenty minutes we stood talking, we learned about fifty years of Eileen’s life, from youth to college to career to new neighbors.

Eileen moved to Kentucky after graduating from Purdue University and opened a veterinary practice, which she ran for forty years. “I started with regular business hours, but people didn’t come,” Eileen said about her practice’s early years. “I tried weekend hours, but people didn’t want to come on weekends. Then I tried opening from 11:00 AM to 7:00 PM, and that worked out well.”

No longer a full-time veterinarian, Eileen still does veterinary work, setting up at pet stores and farm stores for people to bring in their animals for vaccinations. This is in addition to operating the Alpaca farm and running a 4-H program on the farm. Eileen embodies the belief of another Kentuckian, Colonel Harland Sanders (of Kentucky Fried Chicken fame), that a person will rust out quicker than they will wear out.

As we talked in her driveway, Eileen pointed to the row of homes abutting her property line. Like so many other places, houses now grew where trees and crops once did. Hoping to preserve the open fields near her farm, she had asked the landowner to let her know if they ever plan to sell the property and to give her the right of first refusal. She found out the land had been sold when she saw the builders working. She commented about how many houses there were and how close to her property they sat, but she bore no ill will against the builders. “I understand that’s their business and it’s how they make their money.”

As the development took shape, Eileen noticed the layout posed a potential problem. Seeing there was only one road in and out of the development, and knowing the lay of the land, she recognized that people would be stranded in the development in times of flooding. She mentioned this to the builder and offered to let them build a connection to her long, paved driveway. “Let’s build a drive and put up a double lock gate. You’ll have the key to one, I’ll have the key to the other. If the residents are ever stranded, we can agree to open up the gate.” The builder said that wouldn’t be necessary, as they had installed plenty of drainage in the development. “Sure enough, the road flooded and people couldn’t get out.”

Pointing to a nearby house, Eileen said, “The person in that house is a paramedic. When the road flooded, he couldn’t get out. He needs to be able to get to work. I made an arrangement with him to open up my gate so he can get to work when they’re flooded in.”

After chatting in the driveway, Eileen gave us a walking tour of the small farm. We visited the geese, the alpaca barn, and the thirty-year-old mule. All the while we were followed by Peaches, a standard poodle with an unusual fur profile. “Don’t hold her terrible haircut against her,” Eileen pled. Julie replied, “I would never disparage a lady’s haircut.” We noticed Peaches nibbling on something that was more food by-product than food. “She’ll eat anything,” Eileen said. “Alpaca raisins, mule apples, chicken nuggets.”

In addition to raising and breeding alpacas, Eileen showed her alpacas in judged events, winning multiple national and state competitions. The walls of the room beside her alpaca products store were lined with dozens of ribbons testifying to the quality and care of her animal raising.

As we bade goodnight in the dusk of the Friday evening, Eileen imparted three bits of practical wisdom earned from decades in her corner of Kentucky.

“If the male goose charges you, raise your arms and say, ‘Psss! Psss!’”

“If a tornado comes, pound on my door and we can hunker down in the basement.”

And, wishing us luck in the next morning’s 5K, “Don’t let those hillbillies catch ya.”