It’s been more than five years since Guadalajara municipal officials evicted Lawrence Gerard and his 90 rescued dogs from his rented colonial-style house on Calle Libertad across from the U.S. Consulate General.
Gerard’s landlord had finally lost patience with multiple complaints about the smell and noise and took the former New York priest to court.
As he packed up to move out, Gerard told the Reporter that he felt like killing himself.
After further disputes with landlords and neighbors in other parts of the city, Gerard finally found a home more to his liking: a sizable property in a quiet and unfashionable southwestern suburb of the city. Despite having only a smallish house, the corner-lot property has a huge yard dotted with fruit trees for shade, as well as an unused tennis court, ideal for allowing the dogs to roam freely.
And the extra space is vital because Gerard’s canine entourage has doubled in size: he’s now caring for around 180 dogs.
Gerard’s 20-year labor of caring for a small part of the city’s unwanted dog population has consumed every penny of his income. He reckons his monthly expenses now total around 4,000 dollars. Nearly a quarter of this goes on rent, while a large sum is earmarked for three helpers who come in at least six hours a day, seven days a week to keep the place clean.
After purchasing mountains of dog food and paying for vaccinations, veterinarian’s fees, tips for garbage collectors and other costs, Gerard doesn’t have a dime to spend on his own needs.
Not that it seems to matter much to Gerard, who says his life is devoted to his dogs.
Some humans he has less respect for. Suspicious of most strangers, Gerard does not like people entering his property, partly he says because the slightest noise or change of routine can set the dogs barking in a chain reaction.
He prefers to converse through a slot in the metal front door.
“The dogs are clean and friendly and as healthy as any you would find anywhere in the city,” he boasts. As he talks, dozens of dogs mill and sniff around his feet, play in the yard and congregate on the first-floor balcony of the house. Not all of them are mongrels. They also include French poodles, a Schnauzer, a Dachshund and a Beagle.
A veterinarian a few doors down the street makes sure the dogs’ health is taken care of. Karla Carreon hails Gerard as a saintly presence in the neighborhood..
“It’s a noble job he is doing,” she says. “Since he arrived here we’ve seen far less dogs on the street.”
One of the reasons why Gerard’s herd has grown so exponentially is that owners constantly bring by their unwanted dogs to leave with him.
He rarely refuses an animal, apart from large aggressive dogs and pitbulls.
But not all his neighbors are happy at his presence.
“We have to put up with the noise of the dogs at night,” said one neighbor, who wished to remain nameless. “This is a residential zone; it’s not the right place to keep so many dogs.”
Gerard counters this argument by pointing out several businesses operating on his street, including, ironically, a small pet shop facing his property for which the owner, he says, does not have a license.
Some neighbors have complained to Tlajomulco city hall but Gerard says municipal officials who visited his home found everything in order.
“I’m not running a business here. The dogs are my property and there are no health issues.”
Gerard says he has many supporters in the neighborhood and claims “only five” are against him. Veterinarian Carreon is circulating a petition of support, he notes. There are already 15 signatures, he says.
But Gerard admits he would love to find an affordable property to rent that does not have neighbors close by.
“People are trying to help me get a new place but it’s difficult to find somewhere at the right price. If there’s is a rich person out there who loves dogs and wants to help, I’d be forever grateful.” (Gerard says he wrote to billionaire telecommunications magnate Carlos Slim for assistance but never received a reply.)
Although Gerard is keen for his dogs to be adopted, he does not want prospective owners coming round at all times of the day, nor does he want to be contacted by phone. He says adoptions are handled through the Clinica Veterinaria San Francisco (Argentina 690, corner Niños Heroes, Colonia Moderna), telephone. 3810-3098. The clinic has photographs of each dog and will arrange for face-to-face meetings.
Years of tussling with local authorities, neighbors and landlords have turned Gerard into a defensive, often prickly, character. But given the chance to open up and talk from the heart, his opinions are well reasoned and make plenty of sense.
“The government should be providing programs to help people spay and neuter their dogs at reasonable prices,” he says. “They should offer packages that include vaccinations to dissuade people from abandoning their dogs.”
Gerard doesn’t consider himself a saint but just doing a job that others ought to. “Maybe the government should pay me to do their work,” he says with a rare smile.