Bruno Tops 550 Fans on

Facebook!Bruno recently witnessed a surge of new fans amid his 30-hour 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.

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://

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.

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.

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

z Bruno the Brussels zBruno 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

A L L T H E L A T E S T N E W S O N B R U N O T H E B R U S S E L S G R I F F O N

BRU-NEWSM A Y 2 0 1 0 I S S U E 3

the

Bruno the Brussels Odyssey in QueensWe  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