How an SF woman tracked down her stolen pug with help from hundreds of strangers

Stephanie Lee and her dog, Phyllo, pose for a picture in Duboce Park after being reunited. Stephanie Lee and her dog, Phyllo, pose for a picture in Duboce Park after being reunited. Photo: Layla's Woof Blog Photo: Layla's Woof Blog Image 1 of / 25 Caption Close How an SF woman tracked down her stolen pug with help from hundreds of strangers 1 / 25 Back to Gallery

When Stephanie Lee went into the Whole Foods on Market Street near the east corner of Duboce Triangle one evening in late April, she assumed it would be fine to tie her 12-year-old dog Phyllo to a post outside. It was a busy night. There were other dogs there, and people, too, sitting at the picnic table nearby.

But when she came out a short time later, all the dogs were gone — including Phyllo.

So began a 12-day search that brought her to homeless encampments, soup kitchens and SROs across San Francisco and Oakland to find her missing friend, sleeping only a couple hours a night, missing work, barely eating, and getting help along the way from hundreds of strangers. She did not stop until she found him.

"Every minute, I felt like I needed to be doing something, because every minute that goes by, he could be further away from me," said Lee. "I didn't want to risk that he would be further from where I could reach."

People she'd never met before Phyllo went missing would come to join her in her search for the dog who would make his way across the Bay, changing hands multiple times, possibly traded for drugs. But that came later.

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She started that first night with the people who worked at Whole Foods — security guards, janitors, checkout clerks.

The combination of security footage from inside Whole Foods and from a residential building next door helped her piece together what happened. A woman, whom Lee later learned was homeless, was kicked out of Whole Foods on suspicion of shoplifting earlier in the night and left the store, appearing angry and agitated.

On the way out, she stopped for a minute and saw Phyllo. She bent down, untied his leash, and picked him up, carrying him off down Market Street, Lee said.

After talking with people who lived in the neighborhood and those who worked at a nearby Safeway, a picture of the woman who'd taken her dog began to emerge, parts of it discomfiting.

"I figured out from these sources she's homeless, she's mentally unstable and oftentimes goes into the store to steal alcohol," said Lee.

After driving around to look for Phyllo without success, Lee headed to places she thought someone might recognize the woman: shelters, the Tenderloin, the encampments near the part of Highway 101 known as "the Hairball."

There was extra reason to be worried: Phyllo is an older dog, with various health issues that have emerged since Stephanie got him from a Dallas, Texas, animal rescue at age 3 while she was living in Kansas City, Kan. He's deaf, nearly blind in one eye and requires daily medication to help manage issues related to his history of cancer.

Some of the people Lee spoke with knew the women, and told her she was unpredictable and tended to travel alone, often walking the city late at night along the Embarcadero and Fisherman's Wharf. So Lee and her friends started driving around the city at 2 and 3 a.m., hoping to find her.

Meanwhile, posts about Phyllo had been made on NextDoor and Facebook, and those started to bring in tips, too. Lee and her friends chased leads all over the city.

Then, one morning, their search brought them to the Embarcadero. Lee was passing out breakfast burritos she'd bought, hoping for leads where she happened to run into a homeless man named Darryl whom she'd spoken to before. It turned out that he'd seen the woman who took Lee's dog (appropriately, he also got the last burrito) and took Lee to the park where he'd seen her. She was still there.

"It was a very surreal moment to be able to talk to someone who has basically taken your family member away from you," said Lee. "I had been searching for her for a week."

The woman didn't make much sense, Lee said, but she said something about taking Phyllo to Oakland, sleeping there for a few nights, and then giving him away, although Lee believes from others she spoke to that Phyllo was traded for something, possibly illicitly.

Learning that Phyllo was in another, larger city was Lee's nightmare. Luckily for her, Darryl was determined to keep helping her with her search, helping her navigate homeless encampments in Oakland and meet more people who might have information. Other people she met along her search also headed east with them to spread the word.

Finally, after a few false leads, some dead ends and many more conversations and flyers, Lee got a call from a man in Oakland who said he had her dog. She was almost afraid to believe it, but it was true: He met her at a police station in Oakland and with him was Phyllo.

When she saw him, he looked sick and disoriented, and her heart ached, she said. It was only when she took him to the veterinarian and his blood work came back normal that she could finally feel relief.

Lee, for one, is matter-of-fact about the lengths to which she went to find her dog.

"Giving up was never an option for me. He is my family," she said. "You do whatever it takes to keep family together."

To celebrate his return, they had a party in Duboce Park, only a few blocks from where he was snatched. It was a sunny Saturday. Whole Foods provided the snacks for free, and neighbors, pugs and other pups came from around the area to meet Phyllo in person and welcome him home.

The bonds forged during the search crisscrossed the party like the weft of a piece of cloth, Stephanie darting from friend to new friend, checking on people, touching them on the shoulder, offering cupcakes and rides home.

"The biggest gift is, of course, having him back in my life, but also meeting other people from SF from all walks of life and having them in my life, all these new friends from the community," Lee said, a smile in her voice.

Now Phyllo is something of a neighborhood celebrity. It's surreal to be recognized by people who followed the saga on NextDoor or Facebook, or saw the flyers around town, Stephanie said. Phyllo is mostly back to normal, although he's developed a new taste for sleeping on the hard floor, something he never did before he was stolen. And she's still trying to process it all, feeling protective and grateful and, most of all, exhausted.

"I don't think," she said, "I can handle another search anytime soon."

Filipa Ioannou is an SFGATE staff writer. Email her at fioannou@sfchronicle.com and follow her on Twitter