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A Night-Walking Conservationist?

The headlights came from a direction I had not yet explored, through a gate I’ve not opened. The vehicle circled around, doubled back, passed close to me and then stopped where it had started.

I whisper-shout: “Carlos!” No response.

“Carlos!”

My guard dog is not here. I hear a car door. I call louder, “Carlos!”

I see a flashlight approaching me. Forget trying not to be seen or heard. I yell, “Carlos!!”

He arrives, I hustle him into the car.

What else do I have to take with me? Oh. The laundry basket is on top of the car. The dog water. The bathing bowl on the hood.

Half dressed (I was already in bed) but covered by the night, I kick Dwyn into the back and jump into the driver’s seat, heart pounding.

Time to leave, for the night at least.

I return to K’s house and park on the edge of the property. I have to get up early for the weekend sale the next morning, and I wake her earlier than she’d planned. She’s gracious about it.

The next night on my way to the campsite I realize I don’t want to go back. It’s Saturday night. If they were yahoos out for no good, they might still be there. Heck, if they were conservationists out to observe prairie dogs or amphibians during a monsoon night (more likely), they could also still be there. And I wouldn’t know the difference.

So I park midway, just a few yards off the road, partially hidden from view by trees. The next morning we are woken by a caravan of horse trailers that parks across the street. I watch as they unload, saddle their equine friends and ride away from my car.

The morning routine is cut short when I realize I left my two laundry baskets and my bathing bowl on the porch at the sale last night. I had removed them from the back of the car so that I could load the large box-sign I’d made and take it into town, pointing the way to the sale. At the end of the day, after returning the box to the sale room, I forgot to re-pack the laundry. And my toothbrush, etc.

No problem. I’m sure they are still there and probably no one has noticed them. I can clean up in the restroom there (just this one time, K2, no worries!).

Which reminds me: Thanks to the kind woman who offered me her once-weekly job cleaning those restrooms, K now has that job (I passed it on to her and K2 approved).

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