I used to love that view. It was amazing. The best view in the world.
From where I stood I could see everything.
The mountains in the distance were amazing. Constantly changing with the light. Never the same twice.
So far away yet so big. Did you know there are whole villages up there? It blew my mind when I found that out. Villages with houses and families and kids and horses.
They were too far away for my old legs, but it was nice to know they were there.
And the stream that flowed down during the winter, merging into the river right below my feet. I often wondered what lay at the end of that river. I always meant to jump the fence one day and take a stroll down.
But the hill where Raphael used to work was the best. He used to go up there nearly every day – no matter what the weather – with Rusty, his little campo dog.
Rusty was great. Totally mad of course, with his one eye blue and his one eye green. He’d run alongside Raphael as if he was running for his life. Not that Raphael would have hurt him if he lagged behind. Don’t get me wrong, Raphael looked after us just right.
I didn’t go out much towards the end except now and again when, for a treat, Raphael would open the gate and lead me out. He held my rein with the gentleness of a father. We’d set off up the hill, onto the main road, and up the mountain paths. I loved those trips out.
You could see the whole world from up there. It was just the best.
But all good things come to an end and the end came quickly.
One night everything was there, the next it was gone.
I remember the sunset.
I hope no one suffered.