Chai story: the Indian miracle of the desert

Year 2019. Last hours of December 24. We are in the middle of the Thar Desert, Rajasthan, celebrating Christmas Eve with a bottle of rum with some friends we have made along the way. Suddenly a puppy, barely a month old, appears. Where did she come from!? Someone exclaims: It's a miracle! There, among the dunes isolated from any population and with no trace of a dog that could be her mother, we began to joke that she has come from the Virgin Cocaí, the only one of her species present in (probably) dozens of kilometers around. Should we call her Chusa (from Jesus)? No... I don't know why it doesn't seem like a good idea to me. She snuggles between the blankets... and wakes up with us in the morning. It was time to make a decision.

Baby Chai with a woman in Somnath, Gujarat

Leaving her there was not an option, because if she didn't die of hunger she would die of cold at night. We thought about leaving her in the nearest town, but we didn't see her mother or any other puppies. So without really knowing if we were doing the right thing, we took her. My intention, as with Cocaí, was to find her a local family. After just a week and after leaving the desert behind and landing in the Arabian Sea, we realized that she already had a family: it was us. It was a difficult decision, but above all supported. My brother, who had come to India to visit us when the meeting took place, and his girlfriend were going to keep her. I “only” had to travel with her for a few months while I prepared her papers so I could “pack” her on a plane and pass the strict European animal import controls.

The trip with two dogs was complicated, but in India anything is possible: thanks to all those who gave us a ride!

But it wasn't going to be easy... Not even possible. Firstly, because I didn't realize that what I was in charge of was not a dog, but a Tasmanian devil. I had never seen a being with so much energy. “I hope one day you have a son just as naughty as you,” my mother used to tell me when I messed around with her when I was little. Karma was waiting for me in India 30 years later. Secondly, because the coronavirus came onto the scene and changed everything. With the world paralyzed, I couldn't continue with the canine bureaucracy until half a year later... and I no longer thought (or felt) the same: the bond with Chai was too great. I felt very sorry for my brother and Yoli, but she was my dog.

Camping next to a tributary of the Ganga in northern India

Chai's first two years were pure adventure, including a long pandemic in India, a half-year trip through Pakistan, and several more months through Iran, Turkey and Europe. His indefatigable personality did not make things easy for us, but in return she filled everything with joy. I still see her trying to play with dogs, humans, cats, cows, goats, monkeys and camels at the same time. Cocaí, with her holy patience, got her out of trouble and helped a lot in her education.

I swear I tried my best to get her on the right path...

Despite getting lost on several occasions and a good handful of scares, she arrived home safely with us. By then she had caught up to Cocaí in size, but she was still a puppy. The eternal little sister.

Aboard one of the many pickups that took us around Pakistan

This third year of her life has been very different. One of my biggest fears was that she would not like living in Madrid, but if Chai has a quality worth admiring, it is her rapid adaptation to the environment and circumstances. She is always happy, wherever we go. Furthermore, it has been very good for her to have a routine and a family (who loves her deeply). So good that she is becoming more and more calm and homely... We will never know if it was a joke from a desert shepherd, a gift from the Hindu gods or, as my father says, she jumped out of a plane, but there is no doubt of something: Chai will return to her old ways as soon as we hit the road again. She is always ready for a new adventure. Just like her two thunderbuddies.

Africa, here we come!