I saw him again today. He always appears just as CoCo and I pass his house. I become aware that a whirring apparition is trailing behind us on our walk. Such stalking should give me the creeps. But I have come to accept it, to welcome it even. For the stalker is not another walker, but a senior citizen on a mobility scooter.
CoCo and I make a habit of walking a mile or two each day--always the same route, but never at the same time. That's why it occurred to me this morning that perhaps our uninvited shadow watches and waits for us. I wonder why a disabled man would choose to go for such a destinationless spin.
For CoCo and me, our walks serve a definite purpose--we both need the exercise. The young pup runs off boundless energy. The old dog works out the kinks and aches of middle age. But more than that, puppy and human delight in the simple joy of being outdoors--of "blowing the stink off." Does our scooter stalker not deserve the same pleasure?
So we walk. Spring has brought heavy rains to the Southwest, and the desert is bursting with renewed life and fragrance. CoCo stops at every bush and flower. Creosote fills the air with a heady licorice. The cut-lobed spurge exudes its toe-jam stench. We move on. And I am aware that our senior companion has paused with us.
Should I speak to him? I am usually an uber-social individual, but this is the one time of the day when I savor my solitude. So I do not speak. Instead, CoCo and I proceed to the top of the street, where we part ways with our silent shadow. As he U-turns for home, I catch his eye. I nod. He tips a slight, silent salute.
And I know that tomorrow, should CoCo and I decide to walk, no matter what time of day, our silent companion will follow us along the way, just to blow the stink off. I think I will call him "Tonto."
CoCo and I make a habit of walking a mile or two each day--always the same route, but never at the same time. That's why it occurred to me this morning that perhaps our uninvited shadow watches and waits for us. I wonder why a disabled man would choose to go for such a destinationless spin.
For CoCo and me, our walks serve a definite purpose--we both need the exercise. The young pup runs off boundless energy. The old dog works out the kinks and aches of middle age. But more than that, puppy and human delight in the simple joy of being outdoors--of "blowing the stink off." Does our scooter stalker not deserve the same pleasure?
So we walk. Spring has brought heavy rains to the Southwest, and the desert is bursting with renewed life and fragrance. CoCo stops at every bush and flower. Creosote fills the air with a heady licorice. The cut-lobed spurge exudes its toe-jam stench. We move on. And I am aware that our senior companion has paused with us.
Should I speak to him? I am usually an uber-social individual, but this is the one time of the day when I savor my solitude. So I do not speak. Instead, CoCo and I proceed to the top of the street, where we part ways with our silent shadow. As he U-turns for home, I catch his eye. I nod. He tips a slight, silent salute.
And I know that tomorrow, should CoCo and I decide to walk, no matter what time of day, our silent companion will follow us along the way, just to blow the stink off. I think I will call him "Tonto."
Still no pix of CoCo?
ReplyDeleteThanks. She is just too cute for attention not to be paid.
ReplyDelete