The Boys’ Paddock Politics: Why Male Llamas Don’t Always Get Along

At Glamping with Llamas, most visitors quickly notice how peaceful the herd appears. The girls wander quietly together, the youngsters lounge in the sun, and there is often an atmosphere of calm curiosity around the paddocks.

But behind that calm exterior sits a surprisingly complex social structure, particularly amongst the boys.

At the moment, PJ is living separately in his own paddock while awaiting gelding before eventually joining the wider male group. From a human perspective, the arrangement might seem simple enough. Keep him nearby, allow the llamas to become familiar with each other through the fencing, and eventually integrate him into the bachelor herd.

The llamas, however, appear to have rather different opinions on the matter.

The Tension at the Gate

One of the most fascinating things to observe is the behaviour that takes place around PJ’s gate. The girls often approach him with soft clucking noises, displaying what can only really be described as interest and availability. Female llamas communicate subtly but clearly, and there is often a noticeable difference in their behaviour around an intact male.

The boys, on the other hand, are considerably less welcoming.

Particularly Mesenka and Husani.

Visitors sometimes assume llamas simply “make friends” with each other over time, but male llamas can hold very strong opinions about hierarchy, territory, breeding rights, and social stability.

And PJ represents disruption.

Mesenka, The Guardian

Mesenka is particularly interesting because he was gelded before ever having the opportunity to breed. That seemingly small detail may actually help explain much of his personality today.

Rather than developing into a breeding male focused on competition and mating opportunities, Mesenka appears to have channelled much of his energy into herd structure and guardianship. He watches everything. He intervenes in disagreements. He positions himself strategically between perceived threats and the rest of the herd.

In many ways, he behaves less like a rival male and more like a herd manager.

This is not unusual in domestic llama herds. Gelded males often become calmer, more socially stable animals because the intense hormonal drive associated with reproduction is removed before it fully shapes adult behaviour.

That does not mean they become passive.

Far from it.

A good guardian llama still understands status, space, and boundaries extremely well.

Husani and the Question of Legacy

Then there is Husani.

Unlike Mesenka, Husani did breed before being gelded. He successfully mated with Jasmine, producing Sara, one of the most beautiful young females in the herd.

Even after gelding, however, traces of former breeding behaviour and social memory often remain. Hormones may reduce, but learned social patterns do not simply disappear overnight.

And this is where PJ changes the dynamic.

PJ himself has already bred with Jasmine once. Whether successfully or not remains uncertain, as she is currently not showing obvious signs of pregnancy, despite the cria likely being due around late April or early May if conception had taken place.

But from the perspective of the other males, the possibility itself matters.

In llama society, an intact male represents competition long before any cria actually arrives.

Native Behaviour vs Domestic Herds

To really understand this behaviour, it helps to look back at how llamas evolved in their native South American environments.

In the wild or semi-wild herds of the Andes, intact males would rarely coexist peacefully in close quarters unless clear hierarchies existed. Competition for females, territory, and status would naturally push younger males out of breeding groups, often forcing them to form separate bachelor herds until strong enough to challenge dominant males.

Domestic life in the UK changes this dramatically.

Fencing, smaller paddocks, controlled breeding, and human-managed herd structures create situations that would not naturally occur in the wild. Males who would normally separate over miles of mountainous terrain instead continue seeing each other every day through gates and fencing.

That can create a fascinating psychological tension.

The instinctive behaviours remain deeply embedded:• guarding females• monitoring rivals• defending status• assessing weakness• establishing hierarchy

But the environment no longer allows those instincts to resolve naturally through distance and dispersal.

Instead, much of the communication becomes ritualised:• staring contests• posture changes• alarm calls• pacing fence lines• neck wrestling threats• clucking from females• subtle attempts to intimidate or exclude rivals

To human observers, it can sometimes appear dramatic, emotional, or even personal.

In reality, it is an ancient behavioural system trying to function within a very modern domestic setting.

Why Understanding This Matters

One of the most important things we continue learning from the llamas is that they are not passive farm animals.

They are highly social, emotionally aware, observant animals with complicated relationships, long memories, and surprisingly nuanced communication systems.

Every paddock has politics.

Every herd has alliances.

And every llama appears to have an opinion about where they, and everyone else, should stand within the social order.

PJ may eventually settle successfully into the male group after gelding, particularly once hormonal pressures reduce and the hierarchy stabilises again.

Or the boys may continue reminding him exactly where they think he belongs.

Either way, the gate discussions remain ongoing.