By DIANE HAITHMAN and HEIDI, Studio City Patch
Not every dog rescue is a fairy tale like Heidi’s story, from Texas
storm drain to Hollywood. Meet Bruno, the rescue dog from hell.
Actually, Bruno is not from hell–he’s from Woodland Hills. At least,
that’s where our friends Deborah and Ron Kaye found him in 2005,
lurking in the bushes in front of their house. Deborah admits to being
scared of the stocky creature, a pit bull-Shar-pei mix whose stripy
velvet coat was marred with mange and whose lopsided grin was studded
with teeth as crooked and broken as an old graveyard.
“Ron said: ‘Maybe you should feed him, he might be more dangerous if
he’s hungry,’ ” Deborah recalled over lunch with Heidi and me on
Wednesday at Ramen Jinya in Studio City. (The covered patio makes it a great place to eat outside on a rainy day with a pooch).
From there, the beast was only a trip to the vet away from moving
into the house and Deborah’s big heart. But Deborah, former parent of a
sweet purebred Corgi named Georgia, was unprepared for this rough-edged
adoptee, a blend of two different brands of fighting dog who’d
apparently not had a home of his own for a long time, if ever. He became
so attached to his house and his new mom that he became a whirling
dervish of possessiveness, attacking anything that threatened his new
Every time I hear news of Bruno, he’s done a bad, bad thing. His rap
sheet includes breaking the front window three times in an attempt to
get at the postman; biting the pool man; terrifying visitors and causing
Deborah to suffer various falls, lacerations and broken glasses during
walks because even the dog’s heavy choke chain couldn’t prevent him from
dragging her along when he decided she needed his protection from
another passing dog. Due to some puppyhood trauma, he flips out when he
sees vans on the street, especially vans driven by short men.
“He eats grass, and you just know if he goes into the bushes and does too much sniffing, he’s going to come out with a hamburger,”
Deborah says, wrinkling her nose at this scavenger habit. “He’s always
looking for old meat. You just know someone threw this dog out. I know
this dog was thrown out of a van by a bunch of short men.” We were
laughing, but that just might be true. Thrown out of a van driven from
hell to Woodland Hills.