“She was dumped here, some people who came to pick up their family left her,” recall the workers at the airport.
14ymedio, Natalia López Moya, Havana, 1 August 2024 — Lying next to the entrance to Havana’s José Martí International Airport, a dog waits for the owners who left with the mass exodus. “He’s been here for a while, ever since he arrived in a car with his family, they went in, traveled and left him,” says a cleaning employee at Terminal 3, from where most of the flights depart to Nicaragua, the gateway to Central America for many Cuban migrants.
Some workers bring him food and have given the dog a name. “Come here, Canelo,” says one who brings him leftovers from her lunch. “Pinto, have some water,” a taxi driver from the nearby taxi stand hands him a disposable cup. They all know something that the animal doesn’t: that his owners won’t return and if they do, it’s unlikely that they’ll go looking for him at that door where he waits day and night. Some protectors have tried to get him out of the place and find him a home, but the mixed breed, perhaps four or five years old, doesn’t intend to move from that entrance. Time is starting to take its toll on him and his skin is already deteriorating on various parts of his body.
Everyone knows something that the animal doesn’t: that his owners won’t come bac