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Dolma or a sweet Love Story

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Watercolor by the Chilean painter Julio Escámez (1966).
29 mayo 2016

This dog was with Miguel Serrano for almost ten years.

I left to Rome; I received Dolma and remained with her at the Columbus Hotel, owned by the Vatican, in the “Via della Conciliazione,” surrounded by mural paintings and monastic like corridors. In those days an Ecumenical Council was taking place and Dolma could watch all this with me, in San Peter square, men in purple and the gold of the Holy City. Given her sacred ancestors from Lhasa, this was an appropriated Western welcome to her.

When I was back to Belgrade, I requested a special audience to the Chief of Protocol and I went with Dolma. I introduce her with all her titles, for him to know and understand my decision. I asked to him: “Could I leave this sweet miss behind in Rome?” Maikedo laugh with desire showing the sense of humor and the great benevolence of the Yugoslavians. Yugoslavian people know how to love animals. The Minister of Foreign Affairs by then, Koča Popović, had a magnificent police dog, an affectionate friend. I confess in this moment that my intention was not to “épater les communist.” I was spontaneous and this in turn gained to me a sincere friendship of those magnificent human beings, the Yugoslavians.

In India, Yugoslavia, and Austria, Dolma found always love and care. She became, soon after, a “kitchen dog,” spending more time along with people that coocked and looked for her –and to me through her. Dolma knew, anyway, that she was mine, and she used to come to visit me, being always present in the right moments, the more convenient ones. Then, she looked deep into my eyes, in order to know my thoughts, my concerns.

Nevertheless, this dog sight is a mere formula, so to say, because they do not need to look at the eyes to know what is happening to us. They discover it in a different way “feeling our aura,” our vibration. Really, looking to us, into our eyes, it is just to let us know they already know, or to comfort us; so we can understand they are with us, to accompany each other.

Years went by, my Dolma grew old. Dolma, the one that flew, the puppy with wings. She wanted to show me that she was still capable to flight. In the parks of the Old Austria she run through the forests of Vienna; running, jumping, rushing. She rushes less every time.

Then it was 1971, a year so filled in with adversity. I had to leave the diplomacy forever the life I had as a “golden vagrant.” It happened very sudden; I had almost no time to think properly, to understand its deep meaning. I left Dolma with strangers in an improvised place, for the first time; anyway they did their best to take care of her. I searched a place where to live. Could Dolma have believed I was abandoning her?

I crossed regions and countries. One day I was in the Pyrenees, going to Spain. In Montsegur, someone gave me a blue rose, the “ultimate flower,” it is so beautiful! I was driving by myself and I put the flower on the seat next to me. Every now and then I looked at it; I was crossing the mountain and the flower bent towards me. Suddenly, I thought on Dolma, because she used to bend her head when she traveled by car with me. A flash thought came to me “there is something wrong with her,” since that moment I paid all my attention to that flower, to take care of if, to avoid it dries, to avoid it dies, then I thought if the flower dies Dolma would die.

A day and a half I traveled through mountains. I found myself in front of Montserrat, of its heights as in a dream; where according to the legend of the Saint Grial was once stored by the Christians (but not the one of the Cathars neither the one of Parzival). I decided to visit the Monastery. I got lost in those roads of heights, not knowing how, I found myself infront of a small telephone office, there, in that isolated place. I got out of the car and I requested a phone call to Vienna. I was connected almost imediatelly. I asked for Dolma. Indeed! What I feared the most was taking place. Dolma was very ill; she had a spread cancer and a tumor in her throat not being able to eat. She could hardly breathe. The veterinary advised to give her an injection to die soon, avoiding her to suffer too much.

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