This dog was with Miguel Serrano for almost ten years.
All took place as I tell, surprisingly enough a week later in New Delhi I received a message from the Dalai Lama envoy telling me that “my dog” had arrived and I could to take it with me.
In this way I met Dolma, a puppy with long silky honey color hair that was looking at me through her lion like curls. She was coming directly from the Himalayas and it was evident that she was suffering very much with that summer in New Delhi.
The Lama from Tibet, during an elaborated ceremony, explained to me that Dolma was a Goddess from his country, from Lamaism, equivalent to Durga or Parvati, the wife of Shiva in India. The father of Dolma belonged to the brother of the Dalai Lama and the mother to Sherpa Tensing, the first Nepalese that along with the British expedition claimed the Everest. Because of this, my puppy had the best pedigree, not to mention she was coming directly from the heart of the Dalai Lama. Every present received from this high dignitary comes directly from his heart. Dolma, perhaps, was a reincarnated Lama.
At home, in New Delhi, along with monkeys and beneath banana and fig trees Dolma waited for me at night, she did not go to sleep until I was back home from dinners and farewell parties that were given to me. My old bearer, Samuel, used to say me: “She is like a wife; she cannot sleep until you arrive at home.” In the mornings, she waked me up with soft kisses and caress with her hand.
Once, when Nehru invited me to a family lunch at his home, as a farewell, I went with Dolma. She remained all the time under the table, while we were talking precisely on Tibet and China. Nehru could not explain to himself the Chinese sudden animosity against India despite he had helped and defended them at international organizations. I said to him:
–Could it be because you have received the Dalai Lama as a refugee?
Nehru moved his head as if he were doubting:
–It is possible, he replied.
During that lunch were present his sister Mrs. Krishna Hutheesing, and his daughter Indira Gandhi. One of his grandsons was also present.
I left India by ship and I had to leave Dolma in New Delhi, at home of my friend the Japanese Ambassador, in this way I wanted to avoid her long hours of confinement during a trip by sea. Mrs. Gandhi went to say goodbye at the train station in New Delhi, carrying to me a souvenir from his father: the sandal stick he used to carry during his trips through India and the world, a sort of mariscal stick. She said: “My father sent this to you, just in case you need to hit someone in Yugoslavia.” I keep with me this stick, signed by Indira Gandhi, as a very precious object. I did not need to hit someone in Yugoslavia, neither in a foreign country where I have lived. In Chile, maybe, I could use it. I still have here this stick, but Dolma is not here anymore… Sticks do not grow old, do not die. Wood looks like as if last forever, especially sandal wood…
It took me lots of effort to retrieve my puppy. I also believe Mrs. Gandhi helped on this. Honestly, it is very difficult to get rid of a “sacred animal.” Finally, a Chilean friend of mine went to rescue her at the Embassy of Japan, and took her to Europe. I received a telegram where he informed me on her arrival to Italy at the airport “Leonardo da Vinci.” The news arrived at the same time when I was preparing myself to go to Belgrade, to an official visit to the Vice President of Yugoslavia, by then Rankovic. My puppy was arriving the same day at Rome. What could I do? Could I leave her abandoned at an International Airport? I made a phone call to the Yugoslavian Foreign Office and talked to the Chief of Protocol, Ambassador Sergio Makiedo. I explained that a “great love” of mine was arriving at Rome the same day of the interview with the Vice President. “A lady cannot be left waiting there,” I said. “Moreover if the lady was a present donated by the Dalai Lama and even if the lady is a dog.” The communist Chief of Protocol in Belgrade said nothing, his silence reveled how confused he was.
