Move over, Dalai Llama (an actual llama, not the leader of Buddhism) — there’s a new record-holder in town, and he’s spent nearly two decades working as a four-legged therapist for kids.
Meet Whitetop, a 27-year-old llama with a resume that includes “professional snuggler,” “selfie connoisseur,” and now, “oldest llama ever.” This fluffy overachiever, who calls North Carolina’s Victory Junction camp home, has officially trotted into the Guinness World Records, proving that age is just a number when you’re busy spreading joy.
Whitetop’s day job? Serving as a furry confidant for children facing serious illnesses at Victory Junction, a camp founded by NASCAR legend Kyle Petty in memory of his son Adam, who died in a racing accident in 2000 at the age of 19. Campers flock to the barnyard to pet, groom, or simply bask in the presence of the gentle giant, whose work ethic rivals that of a seasoned kindergarten teacher.
Whitetop spends time with children at Victory Junction in North Carolina. Photo by AP
“He is so good with our campers that as soon as our camp days start, he just lays down and he doesn’t get up until lunch. He’ll just lay there and he lets kids run up to him and love on him,” said Billie Jo Davis, the camp’s barn director.
He treats it like a job — it is his job!”
But Whitetop’s talents go beyond marathon cuddle sessions. His calming presence offers “sensory input” for campers navigating challenges like cancer, heart disease, or genetic disorders. Stephanie Wilkerson, who first met Whitetop after her Type 1 diabetes diagnosis, tells everyone about his magic. “When I started stroking him more and more and more, I got more relaxed,” she said.
“He really gets to help campers come out of their shell when they interact with him,” Davis said. “He can be kind of intimidating at first, but once they come over to him and love on him and pet on him, they just realize how sweet he is.”
Whitetop with the world record. Photo by AP
When he’s off the clock, Whitetop enjoys rolling in wood chips, snacking on alfalfa, and putting up with his barnyard BFF, Gus-Gus, a miniature highland cow with a habit of jumping on him. Despite his zen demeanor, the llama isn’t above a little vanity. “If you try to take a picture of him from the side, he’s not into it,” Davis said. “He will, like scoot in there and try to get his face from a side profile so that it’s like he’s cheesing.”
At nearly double the average llama lifespan, Whitetop’s secret to longevity? Top-notch vet care, light exercise, and a career he adores. And while arthritis can slow him down these days, his spirit remains unshaken — unless his donkey pals Jed and Jethro won’t leave him alone, that is.
To celebrate his record, Victory Junction plans a party featuring his favorite feed blend. Fans can also snag a “Still Spit’n” T-shirt (spoiler: he rarely does). “Typically llamas only spit when they are scared, uncomfortable or territorial over something,” Davis said. “And he just loves his job so much that he doesn’t do it.”
