Marian Thormahlen is not going gently into a gentler life. But her precious llamas are.

"For 78 years, I was able to do anything and everything I wanted," she said last week at her 5-acre ranch in Lincoln. "My days were filled with spinning and weaving and caring for my animals."

Last year, Thormahlen, 79, was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. These days, she can hardly walk to the barn to feed the llamas.

"It's a pretty dastardly development, and I resent it," she said.

But Thormahlen is determined to care for her llamas – this time by securing new homes for the handful that are left from a herd that once numbered 35. All are named after opera singers.

Relocating the llamas is not about the economy or the rising cost of hay, Thormahlen said, but these factors make it tougher to find new homes for them.

Feeding and caring for large animals is becoming a financial strain for many rural residents – even owners of llamas, which are relatively inexpensive to feed. The animals are commonly seen in Placer County towns from Loomis to Newcastle.

"People are calling us and wanting to give them away at this point," said Langdon Fielding, a veterinarian and part owner of Loomis Basin Equine Medical Center.

Mary Adams, whose family has "50 some" llamas at their Wild Oak Llamas in Grass Valley, said she has gotten similar calls.

"Some are from people who bought property, and the former owner left some llamas," she said. "They don't know what to do with them."

Lucky for Thormahlen and others looking to place their llamas, a network of llama ranchers is working to find homes for the animals.

Adams doesn't rescue llamas, but she refers owners needing help to Gary Kaufman, whose Llama Lifeline works with people all over the country.

"It is getting tougher and tougher as the economy gets worse," he said.

"Folks rightfully focus on their own animals and their own needs."

Kaufman has about 30 llamas right now at his ranch outside Olympia, Wash. "They come and go as people bring them in for rescuing," he said.

He has a loose-knit group of owners "who understand the magic of these animals" and help place them.

He also is well acquainted with Thormahlen, who is widely known for her spinning and weaving of wool from llamas and wooly, speckled sheep known as Jacob sheep. She once had about 50 sheep along with her llamas.

Until recently, a stream of students would stay at her home for a week or so and learn her crafts.

Thormahlen was captivated by the magic of llamas more than 30 years ago.

She always has kept classic llamas with long legs, long necks and fairly short hair. "Modern llamas are nothing but pasture poodles. … They are all hair," she said.

Many llamas are used as four-legged lawn mowers. Pat Claerbout, director of the Sacramento County Department of Animal Care and Regulation, said she once had two she named Black and Decker.

Thormahlen thinks llamas are overrated as grass trimmers. "They are not as good as goats," she said. Especially her llamas.

"Mine are so spoiled," she said, "that if you offer them anything but hay, they go 'I'm not going to eat that crap.' "

Stephanie Sanchez, who has rescued everything from bunnies to horses and llamas on her acreage in Colfax, has helped place about 17 of Thormahlen's llamas in good homes.

Sanchez does the screening, Thormahlen said, "and she is just as picky as I am. I love these animals, and this is the hardest thing I've had to do."

The remaining llamas, however, are special cases. They include a twosome and trio that need to remain in their small groups when moved, Thormahlen said.

She also worries that another, Luca Bertoni, at age 27, may be too old to survive the stress of being relocated.

Then there is Amelita, whom Thormahlen describes as very aggressive. "I think she is going through menopause. … She has to go to just the right home."

Putting her own health aside, Thormahlen refuses to rush to relocate her llamas.

"I can afford to take care of them, and I can stay here a while longer," she said.

"I just want to find great homes for these wonderful creatures who have been such a joy in my life for so many years."

Call The Bee's Bob Walter, (916) 773-7388.