Yes, Virginia, Riddler makes tuxedo grey. Oh my goodness, does he ever.
Um, yeah. She's a girl, too. Her name was going to be "Shiner" (see closeup face photo), but I've since decided that Ka-Boomie is a better one. She is a Ka-Boomie. A big one.
With alpacas, I have come to realize that the ability to produce a given color is a pretty big deal. This took me a long time to wrap my brain around, because I'm used to other species, where color genetics kind of, sort of, ya know, make sense. (To me, anyway.) In most other species whose color genetics I am familiar with (horses, cattle, rabbits, chinchillas, rats, hamsters, dogs, cats, most species of snake ... I'm sure I'm forgetting some), one can generally look at an animal's color, look at its parents' colors, think about the way those color genes are supposed to behave, and arrive at what will generally be a fairly accurate prediction as to probable color outcomes (setting aside the proclivities and generally unpredictable nature of genetics in general, which will always act as permanent wild-cards). Alpacas, unfortunately, seem to be the exception to this rule. Alpaca color genetics appears to be unlike that of most any other species we are familiar with. They seem to want to adhere to the color-production equivalent of a drunk guy throwing darts backward, over his shoulder, hoping that he hits the dartboard and not the skee-ball table next to it.
This isn't to say that alpaca color genetics will be forever shrouded in mystery, mind you. It won't be. Genetics is genetics, a science like any other. It's just to say that we really don't have a good handle on it yet.
Thus, we return to the (rather irritating) fact that it can be very difficult to predict whether a particular individual will produce a particular color, even when, by rights, it ought to be damned obvious. In the case of fawn alpacas, I have come to learn that it is almost never obvious. Some fawns will make Tuxedo Grey every time they are bred to it. Others, not so much.
I had a good feeling that our boy Riddler would be one of those lucky ones, but really, it was just a feeling. Nothing about him really suggests that he "should" make Tuxedo Grey. In general, the fawns that tend to make Tuxedo Grey are those that have the Vicuna pattern (darker topline with a white belly). The solid fawns seem, from what I've observed, to be more likely to produce more fawn, or brown, but not so much grey.
Riddler is a riddle, though, like so much to do with alpacas. He's a solid fawn with blue eyes, and he's a pretty freaking awesome animal, and oh yeah, today, while I was at work, this little gal was born. Her name is Ka-Boomie.
Um, yeah. She's a girl, too. Her name was going to be "Shiner" (see closeup face photo), but I've since decided that Ka-Boomie is a better one. She is a Ka-Boomie. A big one.
With alpacas, I have come to realize that the ability to produce a given color is a pretty big deal. This took me a long time to wrap my brain around, because I'm used to other species, where color genetics kind of, sort of, ya know, make sense. (To me, anyway.) In most other species whose color genetics I am familiar with (horses, cattle, rabbits, chinchillas, rats, hamsters, dogs, cats, most species of snake ... I'm sure I'm forgetting some), one can generally look at an animal's color, look at its parents' colors, think about the way those color genes are supposed to behave, and arrive at what will generally be a fairly accurate prediction as to probable color outcomes (setting aside the proclivities and generally unpredictable nature of genetics in general, which will always act as permanent wild-cards). Alpacas, unfortunately, seem to be the exception to this rule. Alpaca color genetics appears to be unlike that of most any other species we are familiar with. They seem to want to adhere to the color-production equivalent of a drunk guy throwing darts backward, over his shoulder, hoping that he hits the dartboard and not the skee-ball table next to it.
This isn't to say that alpaca color genetics will be forever shrouded in mystery, mind you. It won't be. Genetics is genetics, a science like any other. It's just to say that we really don't have a good handle on it yet.
Thus, we return to the (rather irritating) fact that it can be very difficult to predict whether a particular individual will produce a particular color, even when, by rights, it ought to be damned obvious. In the case of fawn alpacas, I have come to learn that it is almost never obvious. Some fawns will make Tuxedo Grey every time they are bred to it. Others, not so much.
I had a good feeling that our boy Riddler would be one of those lucky ones, but really, it was just a feeling. Nothing about him really suggests that he "should" make Tuxedo Grey. In general, the fawns that tend to make Tuxedo Grey are those that have the Vicuna pattern (darker topline with a white belly). The solid fawns seem, from what I've observed, to be more likely to produce more fawn, or brown, but not so much grey.
Riddler is a riddle, though, like so much to do with alpacas. He's a solid fawn with blue eyes, and he's a pretty freaking awesome animal, and oh yeah, today, while I was at work, this little gal was born. Her name is Ka-Boomie.
"I'm a few hours old and yeah, I *am* all that. Thanks for asking."
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