Indian Hill owner learns the joy of a dog returning home
BY JESSICA BROWN
Jan 7, 2008
The Enquirer
Rudy had been missing for six days. The temperatures had dropped below freezing, leaving little hope that the 14-year-old, 25-pound dog had survived.
Owner Mindy Ellis was desperate.
"We searched the woods, we went to the humane society, I'd talked to groomers, the trash man, the mailman, friends, neighbors. Everyone gave up hope but me. They thought he'd gone away to die or been snatched up or eaten."
But the Indian Hill woman wasn't ready to give up on finding the little black Puli who loves people and is fiercely protective of his family.
She called the "pet detective." Yes, there really is such a thing. And he saved the day.
His name is Jim Berns. By day the College Hill man runs the wood and machine shop at the University of Cincinnati's architecture school. On evenings and weekends, Berns, 59, and his search dog Samantha - a 2-year-old Bluetick Coonhound - search for lost pets. They become heroes for people like Ellis.
"It's just amazing," Ellis said after Berns and Samantha found her dog in less than six minutes - a personal record for Samantha. "We were all just so impressed with him. I think if more people knew about him there would be so many more people who would find their pets."
At first, everyone thought Ellis was crazy. She had Googled the term "pet detective," not even certain that it was a real thing. "My husband thought I was insane," she said. "People thought I was crazy." But lo and behold, she found Berns, an actual pet detective, right here in Cincinnati.
Berns serves as the Cincinnati branch of Pet Search and Rescue, a California company started by Berns' daughter, Annalisa. He charges a base fee of $350 - slightly more if you live more than 30 minutes away.
He takes information from the pet owner, then he and Samantha begin their search.
On Saturday they arrived at Ellis' house at 9 a.m. It was day six of the search for Rudy.
They took Samantha to the place where Rudy was last seen - a broken backyard fence - and gave her a whiff of one of Rudy's toys. Samantha followed the scent of the little black dog to a neighbor's yard where the family had looked several times before. But this time, as they called Rudy's name, his little head popped up from a ditch and he barked.
He was pinned between a log and a fence in a neighbor's yard. He couldn't move his legs, but he was alive.
"I've never been so happy in my entire life!" said Ellis of the moment she saw her dog. "I was screaming 'That's my dog! That's my dog!"
That's part of the payoff for Berns.
"People I do this for are so appreciative," he said. "A lot of the time they start crying they're so happy."
He's been doing his "hobby" of pet detective work for about a year and averages about one search a weekend. Business has increased since several news stations picked up a story in November about Berns' search for a soldier's lost dog.
He was trying to get the dog home in time for the soldier's return home from Iraq.
Berns, who grew up on a farm with a litter of Bluetick Coonhounds, rescued Samantha from the pound a year ago and put her through training similar to what police dogs go through. He's working on training a second search dog, Chloe. They track the lost pet by scent, the way a police search dog would track a lost child or a fleeing suspect. She has a 30 to 40 percent success rate finding the lost pets. Sometimes they're alive, sometimes they're not.
Either way it is considered a successful mission.
"If you find a pet that's been killed or died, at least the owner has some closure. They know for sure what happened to the dog and you can put that behind you," Berns said. "We think it's a positive either way."
Rudy is not out of the woods yet. He stayed the rest of the weekend at a veterinarian's office in Bond Hill.
On Sunday he was still receiving IV fluids and couldn't move his back legs. He had a high temperature, but he was eating his food, Ellis said. She's unsure of his prognosis.
But no matter what happens, she has peace knowing her home-body of a dog who loves people and "just wants to be loved," was reunited with his family, she said.
After all, she had already done everything she could think of to do. Posters, searches, even a pet psychic, who told her Rudy was "near the house and couldn't move" but couldn't pin down the exact spot.
"I was ready to have a nervous breakdown. I cried every day," she said. "In my heart I felt he was here and close by."
She paid Berns $420. She got her dog back. It was worth every penny.
