The Last Walk

“I feel like going for a walk,” Kristy declared.






We were relaxing on the deck after dinner. ‘Koda and Arya were playing, and Finlay was standing right next to me, perfectly positioned for a nice scratch.















Aaron groaned. “I’ve been walking all day,” he said. (He works for the Postal Service). “Do I have to?”



Kristy grinned at him. “Yes, you do. It’s Lisa’s last night here, and I want to go for a last walk.”





So Aaron put on his funky shoes, and away we went.




I wish I could really describe Raton. I guess, from what people have told me, I expected it to be mostly Hispanic and mostly poor, but I was surprised to find a variety of folks who, if not affluent, were not lacking for much of anything. It really is a charming place. As we walked by a house that was in the process of getting a new porch, the owner stuck her head out of the door and, grinning, warned us not to walk on the porch (it was nothing but framing timbers).

The air was fragrant with the scent of Russian Olive trees that were just in the beginning stages of blooming. We walked past the house with the Australian shepherd that lunged and barked viciously at Arya through the chain link fence. “The nice dog has been moved to the back yard,” Kristy said, sadly. “She used to jump up on the fence and we could pet her.”

Aaron talked about how, being a mailman, he runs into all of the dogs, on one day or another. His method for getting along with them is to keep a pocket full of Milk Bones, instead of some other carriers, who opt for a can of pepper spray to deter them. His rationale makes so much sense: “If you spray a dog, they’re going to hate you every time they see you. If you give them a Milk Bone, the next time they’ll be happy to see you!”

You know, that kind of outlook would work in so many other situations. I think Aaron might have a recipe for world peace right there.



This time I remembered to bring my camera on the walk, so I could share some things with you.


I may have mentioned the mule deer that lounge about in front and back yards.

And I think I also mentioned the fact that Ratonians seem to be inordinately proud of their bears. See the warning about the bears on the dumpster, there? Those are little bear cub pawprints right next to it. I have to admit, the thought of running into a bear scares the bejeebers out of me, but I found the stories of neighbors finding a bear asleep in their tree or coming face to face with one on a walk in the dark early hours of morning fascinating. I’d hoped to see a bear from the safety of my room while I was in Raton, but the closest I got was the last night I was there. The dogs all started barking (a sure sign of a wandering bear, I hear), and when I jumped up and looked out the window, I heard a man’s voice say, “Shoo! Go on, then!” Of course, it could have been a raccoon or some other such critter, but I’m going to go with a bear.

There were quite a few houses for sale in the neighborhoods we wandered through. I found myself picturing what it would be like to own one; to wake up to surroundings like these. (I was also slightly suspicious that Kristy was taking me on a tour of houses for sale on this last walk in order to tempt me into looking on-line to see what was available when I got home).






After the hike up the rim of the volcano, I expected to be worn out. Some of the streets were every bit as steep as that hike, but for some reason - maybe because I was on vacation - it didn’t kill me. I was happy I was able to keep up with Kristy and Aaron, even though I’m a “flatlander.”

















The beautiful sunset was a perfect ending to a perfect day. Kristy and I sat on the deck and enjoyed it for as long as it lasted.


I headed to bed relatively early. The next day was going to be a long one.