Ed M.

There has been such a huge outpouring of love and concern for Jenny and her 4 days of hell, followed by the amazing story of her courageous return, I feel it necessary to share the entire ordeal.

You here about these stories, about lost dogs who travel miles to get back to their owners, and they're the best stories ever. But when it actually happens to you, when your dog does that - just for you - it overwhelms you with a combination of emotions for which there are no words to describe. The pride in having a best friend that is that brave and that smart and that strong, the feeling of being so incredibly flattered that someone so amazing would do this just for you, the incredible sense of relief in having your best friend safely back home from certain disaster, the experience of having your tears and worry and stress evaporate in an instant - all because of her bravery, the feeling of complete disbelief that your best friend had just shown such fortitude and resourcefulness (although you knew it all along), the shock and joy of seeing her laying on her bed as she had for 12 years prior - as if nothing happened, the spontaneous laughter that occurs for the first few hours after her return when she looks up at you lovingly with her tail gently wagging, the sensation of touching her and feeling her energy for the first time again, the utter joy you experience from getting the opportunity to do the mundane things you used to do for her everyday - for the first time again, the warmth and pride and pleasure you experience from exhibiting your fatherly instincts in delicately and carefully attending to her wounds, and ultimately, the tears of joy that happen when it starts actually sinking in that this is our reality - that this is actually our story - forever.

Jenny, the brave one, the smart one, the strong one, the resilient one, the faithful one, the loyal one, the gentle one, the affectionate one, the sensitive one, the playful one, the protective one, the open-hearted one; the best friend I will ever have. There has been a lot that has gone wrong in my life, but, for 12 years, Jenny has been a constant reminder that I am blessed, and never more so than last night.

Friday, 4/1/16:

Jenny's (and my) horror began on Friday at 9:00 pm. We were walking by the marina at Liberty State Park in Jersey City. The park is approx 1 mile wide and two miles long. We were walking on the northeast side of the park by the Hudson River. For some unknown reason, they had fireworks that went off not more than a few hundred yards from us. Jenny, who crawls under my bed during thunderstorms, wiggled out of the leash and took off at full speed. My wife and I chased after her, but Jenny is like a bullet when she runs. We lost sight of her as she was heading west. There are two exits at that end of the park where she was running to, both take you in completely different directions into urban, heavily populated, heavily trafficked, Jersey City. She was familiar with both exits. There were also dry-docked boats and open gangways where she could have jumped onto large abandoned ships; there were hundreds and hundreds of hiding spots in that area. Plenty of those hiding spots were of a type where she could have gotten in, but not back out - she would have been trapped. There was also the entrance to the cavernous wooded area in the center of the park. We had no idea where she went. Where should we start searching? We were confused, terrified, and highly stressed; we couldn't think straight.

There were four sections we could have started searching (the two exits, the dry-dock, and the wooded area), each one was a rabbit hole that could have taken days, if not weeks to investigate. If we were on the wrong track, the trail would have gone cold. We were on foot and could not cover much ground. We frantically searched the dry-dock area all night, with no particular reason, and knowing that there was only a 1 in 4 chance we were on the right track anyway. We also knew from experience that when she gets spooked she will not come to you; we would have to physically extract her from wherever she was. During our search we ran into Officer Heidi Carrera from the Park Police. I told her the story, expecting her to say "I don't care, the park is closed, get out of here." Luckily, she was a dog person and searched in her patrol car all night, phew! However, we returned home at 5:00 am, with scratchy voices from yelling her name - and no Jenny.

Something amazing happened that night, though. I do not have many friends who live in Jersey City that could help with the search (and didn't really believe anyone would be interested in doing so). I nonetheless posted on Facebook around midnight in a faint hope that some of my friends might have friends who lived in Jersey City and would want to help a total stranger look for a dog that wasn't theirs. What ended up happening though, I could never have imagined. At the time of this writing, there is well over 1000 people - total strangers, as far away as California and Idaho and Texas who followed my every post about finding Jenny. They provided cogent advice, emotional support, recommended strategies, re-posted on their Facebook pages, recommended other Facebook pages for me to post on, etc. They put me in touch with Buddha Dog Rescue, who are professional lost-dog capture experts. They informed me about lostmydoggy.com, who, for $175, faxed flyers about Jenny to all local shelters and vets, they had an email database and emailed everyone in the area about Jenny, they have a phone number database and robo-called hundreds of people in the area to be on the lookout for Jenny and to call me if they see her. As word spread - like wildfire - people in the area, complete strangers, started calling me, not offering to help, but to inform me they were already at the park searching for Jenny! To be honest, the outpouring of support and interest in a dog these people have never met is beyond my comprehension to fully appreciate. I can't thank them enough. The only way to repay these people is to help others who are where I found myself, which it will be my humble pleasure to do so.

Saturday, 4/2/16:

Speaking of the trail going cold, the weather on Saturday night was going to be horrid. It was calling for high winds, freezing rain, low temperatures, and thunder and lightening. Truly a perfect storm for my poor, poor Jenny. We knew we had to find her before it set in. We awoke around 9:00 am - it was already very cold and windy. We resumed our search of the dry-docks and started looking into the abandoned ships to see if she was trapped. My old roommate, Rob Fitzgerald, who lived with Jenny for two years (they were best buds) came to search as well. I printed up about 100 flyers and papered the entire park. However, around 8:00 pm the weather came on very quickly and made searching impossible - it was raining sideways. Against every fiber of our being, we abandoned the search, and thus abandoned Jenny. We didn't even know if Jenny had shelter. You can't help but think the worst in those scenarios. We assumed she did not have shelter and was out in that horrible weather dying from exposure. There was, however, absolutely nothing we could do for her. At one point during the night the power went out briefly, in the dark silence of our home we heard the whipping winds, trashcan lids being blown off, and the freezing horizontal rain crashing into our windows. You can't imagine the pain that comes from that type of powerlessness. We both paced, wrung our hands, and wept uncontrollably all night. All we wanted to do was run out the door and find her, but we couldn't. Somewhere around 6:00 am we passed out from emotional exhaustion.

Sunday, 4/3/16:

A new day. I "came to" around 10:30 am on Sunday a thoroughly demoralized man. I was without hope; Jenny was gone. To make matters worse, my friend called and informed me that most of my flyers I spent about 3 hours hanging on Saturday were ripped down overnight by the storm. I stumbled to the computer and checked Facebook. I had been posting my every move during the search (much to the annoyance of my non-dog-people Facebook friends, I'm sure). From out of the darkness, came the light! My old dog walker, Alex Estevez, from like 8 years ago, saw a post about Jenny, that was a re-post by someone I don't know, who re-posted from someone else. Alex, who loved Jenny, re-posted to every page she could think of. One of her clients, Gina Pronti, re-posted. One of the Gina's friends, Lynne-Marie Di Norcio, saw that post and happened to be driving through Liberty State Park at 10:00 am on Sunday morning and... SAW JENNY! Lynne-Marie commented on Gina's post that she just saw Jenny running around Liberty State Park. Someone else I don't know, Robert Wilenker, saw that comment and took a screenshot and posted it in a comment of one of my posts on DOGJC, a local Jersey City dog owner Facebook page. In an instant I went from not wanting to live anymore to superhero!

I woke up the wife and told her; she launched out of bed like a rocket. She ran out the door and drove wildly to the park. I was about to join her but decided to stay behind to try to try to get in touch with Lynne-Marie. I frantically re-posted the screenshot on every Facebook page I could think of asking if anyone knew either Gina or Lynne-Marie. A short time later, I received a message from Lynne-Marie. She told me she saw Jenny running into the woods. I immediately posted that everywhere. I called my friend Rob, who subsequently showed up to the park with a posse of his friends. I then made my way to the park and commenced to conquer the Grand Canyon-esque expanses of the wooded area of Liberty State Park. The wooded area is approx 1/2 mile wide and 1 mile long, it is a preserve and not open to the public; it is completely grown over thicket that is barely navigable on foot. It was freezing out. No matter, those conditions were a blessing considering the alternative that I thought to be fact not much more than an hour before. I came to the park equipped with my dirty underwear strapped to me for scent purposes and bags of peanut butter, and a renewed sense of optimism. And by the way, I couldn't care less that people were staring at me like I was a freak because I was wearing my underwear on the outside of my clothes.

I entered the woods and saw Park Police cars parked by the woods. Someone informed them about the post (no idea who) and they were already in the woods looking. Officer Clancy went up to a tower in Liberty Science Center that overlooks the wooded area with binoculars; no sightings, but my god, what an amazing gesture! I walked into the woods for a couple hours calling her name and saying her favorite words, "tuna" and "wanna go for a ride". At one point when I was near the edge of the woods I saw someone walking his dog on the road. I called out to him and told him about Jenny; he said he knew already and he was walking along the road looking for her (in the freezing cold). I went back deep into the woods and came upon a trail. I was finally able to put that hour long class I went through in the military about tracking people to use and looked carefully at the trail with a flashlight. I found paw prints! I immediately pulled out my phone and posted that. As I was hitting send I heard voices. I stood up and I saw Rob and his posse approaching. We spoke for a while, I thanked his friends profusely for coming out on such a cold day. Then I received a phone call that someone that had just seen Jenny up at the front of the woods near where she went missing on Friday. I raced through the woods to go meet him to see where exactly he saw her. I came out but never ended up meeting with that person because Paul from Jersey City animal control was there with his van. I had left a message with Animal Control on Friday, but they were closed until Monday. Paul checked the messages and decided to come on a Sunday and help out. He brought a humane trap with him and we set it where she was just seen at the front of the woods.

Just as we were setting up the trap I got a call from Rob; he had just seen Jenny near where we had been talking in the woods! She was no more than 5 feet from him but she got scared and ran. He chased after her but she got away. During the chase she stopped several times to turn around and look at him. She looked like she wanted to stop, but she was in survival mode and there wasn't a guarantee of no harm, so she played it safe and took off. I went back into the woods and had Rob take me back to the point of last contact. I had him walk to the other side of the wooded area and then walk towards me, hoping to drive her to me, no luck. I waited there freezing my $#*! off until sundown. I went home with hope that it was just a matter of time.

We came back at midnight to replace the signs torn down by Saturday's storm and to continue the search, hoping that she would exit the woods looking for food. I replaced the signs and then rented a CitiBike and circled the wooded area all night calling out Jenny's name and telling her how much I love her and how much tuna we're going to eat and how many rides were going to go on. Sound carries much better at night; I know she heard me, but she didn't come out; she was still in survival mode and even my soothing voice couldn't shake it. We stayed until 6:00 am.

Monday, 4/4/16:

We woke around noon on Monday. I had been in contact throughout the weekend with Nicole, from Buddha Dog Rescue. She was involved with another case, however, and couldn't help out physically. I called her after I woke and told her about what happened on Sunday. She advised, strongly, to stop all searches and to rely solely on the traps to catch her. She stated that any search would be counterproductive and most likely result in pushing Jenny farther away and into far more danger. Against every instinct I had, I listened to her. I called off the search and posted her advice on every post I had made over the weekend to inform all the people who had been searching to stop searching and if you see her, don't call out her name, don't do anything but to call me. My search then became limited to driving past the trap every couple of hours. I wanted to put up more traps, but Animal Control didn't have anymore available. Then, someone I didn't know, Colleen McDonough, messaged me and asked if I needed more traps. She drove out at 9:00 pm and met me with the trap. I called Rob and told him about the extra trap, he dropped what he was doing and met me at the park. We trekked deep into the woods, in the dark, and set up the trap.

On the way out of the woods I received a call from someone I didn't know who told me he just saw Jenny sprint out of the woods like a bullet towards town. A few minutes later I received a call from my friend from law school who told me she just saw Jenny run out of the park at full gallop. I called my wife and told her to start checking outside the front door because Jenny might be running home. A few minutes later I was called from someone I didn't know who told me she just saw Jenny running down the sidewalk in town (she apparently saw my flyer in the park and put my number in her phone just in case she ran into Jenny). Rob and I sprinted out of the woods and raced with our cars to meet her where she spotted Jenny. She told me what direction Jenny was running; it was in the opposite direction from our house into a section of town she wasn't familiar with. My heart dropped to the ground. I was racked with worry that she would get hit by a car. As I was walking back to my car, wringing my hands, I received another call; it was my wife who was screaming Jenny was HOME! I didn't believe her. I knew she wouldn't make something like that up, but I just couldn't believe it. I raced back home, jumped out of my car - still running - and ran inside: there she was! In my home! Jenny! She was dirty, tired, eyes red, but happy. She ran up to me and gave me kisses.

Think about how brave she was to do that. She was in full survival mode and wouldn't even approach someone she loved the day before. She is skiddish to begin with; I rescued her from Liberty Humane Society and she was abused before I got her. She is always nervous when we go for a walk in town. But here she was, hurdling head-long into the city all by herself on a mission to get home to the people she loved. She had to cross 4 busy intersections to get from the park to our home 1.7 miles away. Somewhere in those woods she pulled herself together, she calmed herself down, and she decided she was going home and she was willing to cross the abyss to get there. I should point out that Jenny barreled out of those woods with all the ferocity that Pit Bulls are infamous for, but never appreciated for.

So, it is as it has always been; I spent enormous energy trying to rescue her, but in the end, she rescued me.

Thank you Jenny.

Written by,
A boy and his dog

Post Script: There are many other people who provided a great amount of effort in my search for Jenny not mentioned here, for purposes of brevity. You know who you are, and so do I. I am deeply grateful for your help.