Neal Cruz’s other side, the pussy cat

By: Anna Nieves H. Cabrera - 9 years ago

The name “Neal Cruz” struck my consciousness like a bolt of lightning: sudden, unexpected, life-changing.

I was a bank employee on weekdays and a volunteer for the Philippine Animal Welfare Society (PAWS) on weekends. I recall how PAWS president Nita “Tata” Lichauco had called me up at work one day, all excited about “Neal Cruz” and how he had made PAWS a beneficiary of “Kapihan sa Maynila.” She had been invited to the “Kapihan” to receive a donation from the group, she said.

I had no idea who Neal Cruz was nor what “Kapihan” was all about. But Tata’s excitement was well-placed: the man was the best thing that happened to our young organization. It was 1999, and though we had successfully lobbied for the Animal Welfare Act, we were still struggling to put up an animal shelter. Donations were extremely hard to come by. Most of our funds came from grants, so getting a donation of a thousand bucks was considered an event.

So it was understandable that Tata’s hand shook when she accepted the P50,000 check from Mr. Cruz at the “Kapihan” which, I learned that day, was a regular breakfast gathering of journalists to discuss the latest political issues making headlines. The breakfast forum was started by Cruz himself, whom Tata described as “a very important journalist.”

Shortly before it opened to the public in 2001, PAWS was like a stray: unloved, desperate for funds, making do with good intentions. Wide-eyed and naive, the officers of PAWS thought that the answer to the problem of strays was to build a shelter. We could keep and nurse the rescued dogs and cats until they got better and later, offer them for adoption. We had 14 rescued dogs—but no adopters and a dwindling savings account.

Pet adoption

What we had were too many calls from people who wanted to dispose of unwanted pets and hardly any call offering to adopt one. Secretly, we questioned ourselves: could building the shelter be PAWS’ undoing? Maybe Pinoys weren’t ready for the concept of “pet adoption.”

And then, like a bolt of lightning, Neal Cruz came to our rescue. Again. When Tata told him about the “soft opening” of the PAWS shelter, which was to be called “PARC” for PAWS Animal Rehabilitation Center, Mr. Cruz proposed that an “Adoption Day” be announced. Which HE did.

We didn’t get our hopes up for Adoption Day. Our earlier feeble attempts at promoting pet adoption was met with a lukewarm response. But later that day, our shelter manager, Oscar Lei, called to say that Adoption Day was a big success. About a dozen people came, each of them saying that they read about the event in Neal Cruz’s column titled, if memory serves, “Adopt an animal and be at peace with your conscience.” At that time, the only other column that tackled animal welfare issues was Tata’s column in Mr & Ms magazine.

His column must be very popular, I thought and decided to check out the Inquirer. And there he was, right under the editorial cartoon. It was unheard of: a whole column in a major daily that actually discussed a subject outside the realm of politics and current events.

Society’s obligation

It was then that I realized that Neal Cruz believed in us and in our cause. At a time when animal welfare was considered part of the lighter side of the news, it was he who pushed the issue into mainstream discussions and made politicians sit up and take notice. He made them think that perhaps, the animal welfare issue was more than just about “cute pets.” Whenever he wrote about the topic, he came on strong with a single message: “Society’s obligation to prevent animal suffering stems from a simple reason—because it CAN.”

My clearest memory of Mr. Cruz during the early days of PAWS was at one of its Christmas parties. I had by then a steady correspondence with Dinna Cruz, whom I did not know was his daughter, “Cruz” being a common family name. When Mr. Cruz attended the party with Dinna and his other daughter, Doris, it was only then that I made the connection. I would later become good friends with Doris when Dinna migrated to the US.

At the potluck gathering in the dimly lit PARC grounds where we sang a Christmas song, the Cruz family was there. Despite the flurry of mosquitoes feasting on us, Mr. Cruz gamely sang along while holding a recently rescued puppy, like the other guests did. Unknown to us, the puppies were afflicted with distemper. Volunteer vets were hard to come by in those early years, so we had no resident vet to check on the animals regularly.

The puppies died a few days after the party, and we prayed that none of the guests brought home the virus to their pets. I remember that Tata had to inform Mr. Cruz, along with the other guests, about the distemper, much to our embarrassment. Fortunately, the incident did not discourage him from supporting us and he remained a generous donor.

Ban greyhound racing

I cannot remember how many times Mr. Cruz—whom I later addressed as Tito Neal after I realized that this man had become more of a family to PAWS than just a champion—had come to our rescue. His column, “As I See It,” consistently swung the odds in our favor when we lobbied for the banning of greyhound racing in our country. He was the only columnist, other than Mrs. Lichauco, who devoted an entire column on the importance of spaying and neutering (kapon) to solve the problem of animal cruelty and pet overpopulation.

In 2010, when PAWS was outvoted in the Committee on Animal Welfare (CAW) on the tambutso-killing issue, he wrote column after column hitting groups that voted in favor of killing stray dogs with fumes from vehicle exhaust pipes. Prior to 2010, this was allowed, as it involved little or no cost. But it was a painful way for unwanted stray dogs to go. Mr. Cruz described those who supported this method of killing as “lacking in compassion.”

Several CAW members, noting Mr. Cruz’s regular support of PAWS, asked outright if we were paying him. I was so flabbergasted that it took me several seconds before I could respond: It was the other way around, I snapped. The man had, in fact, donated several times to animal welfare organizations to help as many animals as he could.

We eventually won the fight against tambutso-killing, with the agriculture secretary buckling under public pressure and asking CAW for another round of voting on the matter. This time around and perhaps after having read Neal Cruz’s columns on the issue, the majority of CAW members voted to outlaw tambutso-killing and agreed on more humane methods of euthanasia. After an onslaught of Neal Cruz’s columns, no one dared to even suggest that just because the dogs did not belong to anyone and a “menace” to society, they were undeserving of a humane end.

Four-pet limit

The last time I saw Tito Neal was at our meeting with Quezon City Vice Mayor Joy Belmonte, on the issue of the ordinance imposing a four-pet limit on the city’s residents. Through his daughter, Doris, he asked if he could come and join the meeting. But of course! We would have asked him earlier but we knew about his weekly dialysis sessions and hesitated.

He came to the meeting, aided by Doris and a cane. He slowly climbed the steps to the vice mayor’s office with an air of strength and resolve despite the outward signs of physical frailty. I knew then that we would get what we wanted for the animals.

At the meeting, he spoke—as he always did—with a quiet and firm conviction that the pet limit was not the way to go, and that spay-neuter programs would solve the stray animal problems of Quezon City.

When I heard the news of his death, I shed tears at the immense sense of loss that I felt. I felt grief for his family and my friend, Doris, who told us many stories about this man who had welcomed so many unwanted strays into his home and personally rescued injured dogs and cats.

Unlike many journalists of his caliber, he had none of the hubris of the famous, and remained unassuming. Instead, he used the power of the pen to speak out against any form of oppression—whether it was directed at man or beast.

His colleagues recalled his days of fighting the Marcos dictatorship and martial law. “Press Freedom Fighter” was what they remembered best about him. To a small group of people, including PAWS volunteers and officers, heaping praises on him was something that the voiceless and helpless animals could do better. If they could speak, they would surely thank him for the victories he had won for them.

It is raining as I type this, and I feel sad that the animals have lost a champion. Then thunder rumbles overhead and I suddenly have a vision. Perhaps it is the sound of Tito Neal with his throng of rescued animals rushing toward the Pearly Gates.