If you’re going to have Pisco and Chewy over for a socially-distant gathering, you’d do well to make it a pool party: The baby alpacas appreciate a cool place to take a dip.
“They absolutely love water,” their owner, Andrea Diaz tells DCist in between transporting her pets to homes around Washington. “As soon as they see a pool, they immediately go in. It’s like a reflex by now.”
Diaz grew up in Peru, where alpacas are treasured animals commonly adopted as pets. They’re gentle and curious, she says, and love to socialize. “My mom thought it would be hilarious to bring a bunch of llamas and alpacas to our backyard, and they were so cute,” Diaz recalls. “The babies started coming inside the house just like our dogs. And they started behaving a little bit like them. They were super sharp, and they loved people, so that’s when we understood they could be treated as pets.”
She moved to the U.S. about six years ago and decided to carry on her mom’s tradition and keep alpacas as pets. Pisco, who’s white, and Chewy, who’s brown, are both a year old. (Chewy is short for a more regal title: Chewpacca the Alpaca.) They’re about as tall as Great Danes, but much leaner; alpacas are notedly smaller than llamas. Pisco weighs 55 pounds; Chewy, 45.
Prior to the pandemic, Diaz — who’s a bartender at Inca Social, a Peruvian restaurant in Vienna — says she often took her pets to work to mingle with guests on the patio. The frequent socialization helped them become remarkably friendly animals, good with admirers of all ages. When quarantine began, Diaz realize that perhaps Chewy and Pisco could brighten other people’s days — particularly children who were struggling to understand why the world changed overnight. She thought it would be fun to join birthday parades, but knew that the alpacas’ soft feet would make walking long distances difficult. So she decided to put her idea on wheels.
Since then, Diaz has been working in overdrive to keep up with demand for alpaca visits. She bought a van and uses it to transport Pisco and Chewy around town; they eagerly load in every day. “When I take them out in the morning, the first thing I do is brush them. And I really have to stop them from trying to jump straight into the van,” she says.
She conducts visits wherever customers in the Washington region prefer: inside or outside their homes, or at public spots like parks. While D.C. residents aren’t permitted to keep alpacas as pets, Diaz has permits to bring them in for visits: “Anywhere that they allow dogs, we can be,” Diaz says, so long as there’s shade and access to water.
Prospective hosts should know that Pisco always looks mad; it’s nothing personal. His family refers to him as the grumpy baby — in jest, of course. He can’t help the way his fur grows around his eyes. Goofy facial expressions aside, Pisco is “very interested in everything, and very social.” He’s big on saying hello to those in his vicinity and is always hyper-aware of his surroundings.
Chewy, meanwhile, tends to look scared. He’s not — again, blame the eyebrows — but he is rather oblivious. “He’s a special boy, lost in his own world at all times,” Diaz says. “He pretty much munches on grass and doesn’t realize anything is going on around him.”
Both alpacas are incredibly soft — even more so than cashmere, as their owner puts it. They’re sporting mohawks this summer, a way to keep cool that still allows for a fuzzy strip of fur to run your hands through. Chewy and Pisco both enjoy back scratches.
During visits, many customers set up small inflatable pools. Diaz also travels with a portable pet pool, just in case. The alpacas like to lay down in the water. When they tire of splashing, expect the guests of honor to amble about, snacking on clover and yellow dandelions. They also like to sniff their hosts’ hands, eager to nose out any treats that might be tucked away in the humans’ palms.
Back at home, Chewy and Pisco live inside with Diaz and her husband, with constant access to the outdoors. They have their own room and unlimited food and water, and they spend much of the day munching and napping. They’ve rejected the dog beds Diaz provided, and don’t care for “cushiony stuff” like couches or beds, preferring to snooze on the carpeted floor. They’re house-trained and generally delightful roommates.
And that’s what Diaz hopes to continue demonstrating, even post-pandemic: She wants to spread alpaca joy throughout the region, and introduce people to her lovable, charming pets.
“Sometimes we go to houses and there are kids with special needs,” she says. “Sometimes the kids are terrified and won’t touch the babies at the beginning, or they might cry. And in just an hour, by the last 15 minutes the kids are hanging from their legs and not wanting to let go. To see that change, it’s pretty awesome.”
Chick HERE, to visit the website
