ALL THE LATEST NEWS ON BRUNO THE BRUSSELS GRIFFON
Bruno the Brussels
Bruno the Brussels was born on January 9, 2009 in southern New Jersey. A Brussels Griffon, he was the last of a litter of pups, and at age five he traveled by the New Jersey Turnpike to settle in Jackson Heights, Queens, where he spends his days chasing squirrels and eating liver treats (when he is good). This is his third newsletter.
BRUNO - LOST AND FOUND
Bruno Tops 550 Fans on Facebook!
Bruno recently witnessed a surge of new fans amid his 30hour disappearance, and hundreds of folks from across the City checked for updates on his whereabouts. You too can follow his every paw step on his Facebook page. So sign up as a fan at http://tiny.cc/ 68yOc
Bruno’s In the News
Bruno’s sudden disappearance and return yielded considerable news coverage, starting with New York 1‘s Queens segment announcing he’d gone missing.
News coverage often focuses on the worst aspects of society, crimes and corruption, and misdeeds that either disappoint or depress. This is not one of those tales. In fact, this is a positive Jackson Heights doggy tale, so to speak.
His travails were spotlighted in The New York Times at http:// tinyurl.com/y5tt267, The New Yorker at http://tinyurl.com/ y4amxh9, the Queens Tribune at http://tinyurl.com/2w98rhy, and The Examiner at http://
Within moments of the walker and Bruno stepping outside of our home in the historic district, though, the rambunctious 1-‐ year-‐old wriggled out of his collar and took off. The walker pursued on foot, as Bruno maneuvered through 34th Avenue, then toward Northern Boulevard and disappeared from view. (Continued on Page 2 tinyurl.com/y4eqr7g. You can also watch videos about his experience at http://tinyurl.com/ 2dycwqa and meet his rescuer at http://tinyurl.com/2eqx4e4.
Bruno the Brussels Odyssey in Queens
We rushed home, as the walker navigated the neighborhood on bike. Thus, our search – and our agony – had begun. But while the hours stretched on without any clues – and several unfortunate crank phone calls claiming our worst fears had come true – we witnessed an overwhelming show of support, from friends, colleagues, neighbors, and many people we had never even met. Jackson Heights – and New York -‐ displayed an unbelievable community spirit. And we are forever in its debt. As we searched block by block, neighbors and friends joined us. Our building superintendent Rasim and co-‐op board president Maria patrolled the streets on foot and by car. Former political foe Laura jumped into action and e-‐mailed countless residents to be on the look out. We kept people updated through Facebook and Twitter alerts, and they spread the news more universally. New York 1 ran a segment showing photos of Bruno.
Just after dusk that day, our efforts fruitless and unable to yield any sightings, former Council Member Helen Sears drove us to every building with a similar entrance, reasoning that Bruno could have approached them out of confusion. By then, we’d notiTied animal shelters, hospitals, city agencies, and the ASPCA, as well as alerted community groups, and set up an amber alert to notify hundreds of dog owners in the area, as friends helped to paper Lost Dog signs on posts and buildings. We apologize to those who didn’t like the Tlyers on their windshields; please understand we were driven by unbearable guilt, fear and anguish. Early the next morning, our search continued. Assemblyman Jeffrion Aubrey posted a Tlyer in his district ofTice window on Northern Boulevard. A friend, Anat Jacobson, the chief of staff to former Public Advocate Betsy Gotbaum, headed from her Forest Hills home to drive us to shelters and agencies. Former Comptroller Bill Thompson’s First Deputy, Gayle Horwitz, combed an Upper East Side city shelter for Bruno. We constantly received calls from Jackson Heights residents, people we never had met but said they were putting up Tlyers
in their buildings, checking courtyards, and searching every nook and cranny. Anisha and Dan, the co-‐owners of Spot, where Bruno spends most days in daycare in Downtown Manhattan, drove to Jackson Heights; they and a coworker, Jamie, walked miles, questioning crossing guards, bus drivers, and street vendors. Without his collar and therefore his identiTication, we feared the worst but prayed for the best. That call came late in the afternoon. Juan Arroyave of Whitestone had seen Bruno about Tive hours after he had escaped, darting through trafTic on Roosevelt Avenue. He jumped from his car, pursued him on foot, capturing him. Juan took Bruno home, and a fearful Bruno cowered in the corner, only warming up to Juan’s wife. The next day, when Juan returned to Jackson Heights to shop, he saw a Lost Dog poster near Pio Pio on Northern Boulevard. He called one of our numbers, insisting he had Bruno at home. He had named him Nino, which was in fact one of our nicknames. He drove one of us to Whitestone, where Bruno bounded into his owner’s arms. Juan said he had lost a dog once. And he wanted to see the look in our eyes when we were reunited. He was such a good soul that it took days for him to return our call so he could come collect a reward. Bruno is now safe and sound, and enjoying day care. He sticks to us a bit more, like Velcro, and constantly checks to ensure we’re always within range. As we walk him, he has become an instant celebrity – many teenagers have stopped him, or shout out his name. And neighbors-‐ who we never knew before -‐ come over to congratulate us, sharing their stories about beloved pets and about their worries when learning about his disappearance. We’d already loved our neighborhood, and earlier this year, one of us pondered whether a new job might transport us to live elsewhere. Well, we’re not going anywhere. We love Jackson Heights, and we say “thank you.” Alfonso Quiroz and Jeff Simmons