Homeless man has room for big, furry family

Every day is a struggle for any homeless man—especially if he has 23 mouths to feed.

But Rudy Reyes, 63, who has been living for the last eight years in front of an abandoned building on E. Rodriguez Avenue in Quezon City, finds his reward in every wagging tail or pleading meow that greets him at the end of the day.

The gray-haired Reyes can barely feed himself, yet he has adopted 20 dogs and three cats, a large “family” that keeps him company in the kariton (wooden pushcart) that he calls home.

“All of them are my favorites,” the man also known as “Tatay Rudy” said of his wards, a mix of native and exotic breeds.  “But I give them a spanking when they get hard-headed.”

He relies on his meager earnings as a parking attendant to feed his pets, which he said consume as much as four kilos of rice a day. Next to his rusty bicycle and cooking utensils, he also keeps sacks of dog and cat food.

Sometimes he receives food donations and can serve a feast, but there are days when there is only sinigang or nilaga broth on everyone’s dish. “Never mind if I myself don’t get to eat as long they are all fed,” he said in an interview on Saturday.

All the three cats respond to the call “Ming-Ming,” while the dogs have names written on their collars.

He considers “Carla” the most obedient of the dogs, though Carla’s sister “Che-che” was once kind enough to nurse the cats when they were still kittens.

Stroking sleepy Carla’s head as it rested on his lap, Reyes pointed to the other household members: There’s Carlas’ son “Jem”; the charming “Landi” and the brown dachshund “Bobby”; the white fellows “Jabar” and “Dagul”; and “Shaider” who was infested with fleas when Reyes took him in.

Every week, he said, he would fetch 25 gallons of water from a nearby village so he could give his pets a bath. For this, he also keeps a supply of liquid soap.

Reyes said he had been protective of dogs, especially strays, since he was 9 years old, when he saw his father kill his pet for pulutan.

There was a tinge of anger in his face when he recalled that two men once offered to buy one of his dogs for the meat. “My dogs are not for slaughter. They are loved,” he said firmly. “At times their meals are more delicious than what some people eat.”

It also pained him to recall that Che-che was once run over by a car driven by a teenager.

On rainy nights, under a sheet of tarpaulin, he draws warmth from the furry creatures curled up next to him. It’s been like that for Reyes, a former factory worker who has a wife and nine sons in Bukidnon province, whom he has not seen for several years now.

“Whenever my dogs see that I am tired, they would wag their tails and lick my face,” he said of his other family.