The image that drew me into the case.

Sometime in mid-August, of 2021, parkgoers in Brooklyn noticed a dog wandering in the woods. He was in an area, behind a fence that carved out a walking path that sliced through the park. He was a small, stocky, rust colored pit mix. He had no collar, no leash, and no idea what to do with himself. Several dog owners were trying to lure this dog to the fence; the only barrier between the two of them. He seemed to want to play with people's dogs, but shortly ran off if anyone dared come closer. Since there was no owner on site, we started to think this dog was dumped. I grabbed a couple of cameras and went to the area where he was last seen. During the night, he came to the feeding station I had set.

Finally gaining his trust.

I started to show up to that same spot each day to try and get him to come closer to the trap that I had set. He was extremely cautious to get too close to it. After about a week, I had proved a relationship with the dog. He was coming to my trap and now was even going inside. Unfortunately, he kept beating the trap door. This is when the dog grabs the food and runs, getting out of the trap before the door fully closes. The second time he beat the door, I felt completely deflated. Tired and really concerned about his safety, I went back to the trap where all the food was and began to dump it out on the ground. He wasn’t going anywhere near the trap that night, so I wanted to make sure he still got fed. I tied the trap open and used it as a crate while placing the food in front of the door. By this time, it was pitch black out and as I turned around, I saw two silver glowing eyes starting back at me. He was curious. I sat down and started to feed him. Throwing one small piece at a time. He came closer and closer. He stopped and barked at me and eventually ran into the night.  

Prospect Park, night, waiting for him to show.

Every morning after that night, I waited at the spot with breakfast and then dinner for the evening shift. He started to feel comfortable enough to lay down and rest about ten feet from me. But anytime I even raised my hand, he got upset, barked and pulled back. On September 21st, someone had found a flier of a lost dog that was at least two miles away from home. The dog on the poster was a match and his name was Pharoah. We called the family and told them that we knew where he was and that I had been working with him. They instantly wanted to come over and search, which I tried to persuade them not to. But they went ahead and did it anyway. Up on the hill screaming “Pharoah” at the top of their lungs. They did this for three hours before they met with me, feeling hopeless. I told them he would come to my camera for dinner, and that if they followed my instructions, they would get their dog home.

Pharoah’s parents agreed. Once he came across my camera, I told them to stay back. I walked over there, brought the food and he came running down the hill for dinner. Then they walked slowly over to the area that we were in. They stayed behind the fence and made no eye contact. When Pharoah saw them, he slowly inched over and became curious. They softly said his name and the pup went insane with excitement. It turned out that Pharoah got spooked by the lighting and ran off. However, he did have a collar and leash. We will never know if Pharoah got out of the collar or if someone who had him took him to the park to dump him. It was a successful conclusion, and I was lucky to have been part of it. A surreal experience, to spend nearly three weeks building a rapport with this awesome spirit, and then to let him go. When Pharoah’s mom showed me his return video home, I couldn’t have been happier.  

Reunion.