Yesterday, Grandma G. and I took the lil' dude on an adventure. It was completely unplanned and spontaneous, as most of life's greatest adventures are.
It didn't disappoint.
We told the lil' dude we were going to an alpaca farm ... like llamas, but way cuter and softer.
On the ride there, she kept mooing, saying, "animals. Moo. Cow," and we tended to agree with her.
Grandma G. had an in with the farmhand, so we were able to get in the pen with the wild creatures.
The lil' dude ran free, saying, "run, chase!" and awing the alpacas and farmers with her unabashed sense of freedom and lack of trepidation.
This particular fella, a baby named Ozzie, was quite fond of the little blond lady running about his habitat. He couldn't stay away.
They didn't know if Ozzie's love would frighten the lil' dude, so precautions were taken to maintain the peace.
While the alpacas never gave a moo as the lil' dude predicted, she still had the time of her life making new, fuzzy friends.