GRRRRUFF GUYS, TENDER HEARTS
Bikers, ex-cops, military vets rescue pets, become TV stars
HIDDEN cameras, undercover aliases and private investigators are tactics usually deployed to bust a drug-dealing ring or catch an escaped convict. In the case of the Guardians of Rescue, they’re used to help abused animals.
The Long Island-based group counts former military personnel, retired police detectives, carpenters, electricians and even former convicts among its ranks of unpaid volunteers.
The group, which helps with cases that fall through the cracks of animal-cruelty laws, is now the focus of a six-episode Animal Planet series, “The Guardians,” premiering Saturday at 10 p.m.
“Generally, you have very weak laws,” says Robert Misseri, who founded the Guardians in 2010.
He cites examples of dogs who are left chained up while living in squalid conditions and even starving.
“Chances are they’re not going to confiscate the dog. They’ll give a ticket, give a warning. Or their plate is so full, they may never be able to get to that house,” he told The Post.
“It was disturbing knowing that this was taking place, and I needed to do something about it.”
THE Guardians’ methods are unconventional and controversial. In the series premiere, several members run a sting, posing as interested buyers and using surveillance cameras to nab someone selling dogs from a puppy mill. In 2013, The Post reported on the Guardians starting a program that put the city’s homeless population to work as animalabuse whistleblowers and straycat lookouts, rewarding them with food or clothing. Its director of investigations, Jack Garcia, is a former FBI agent who infiltrated the Gambino crime family.
In addition to Garcia, who handles larger cases, Misseri commissions volunteer online investigators and PIs for a few days of pro bono work.
While other agencies might leave a 24-hour notice before seizing an endangered animal, the Guardians spring into action immediately.
“When an animal is in danger, we don’t have time for search warrants and court orders,” Misseri says. “We try to get to the [animal] owners or homeowners. There’s always somebody you can reach out to, and that’s when we say, ‘What’s going on, what can we do?’ ”
Misseri, 48, with a stocky build and shaved head, isn’t a product of the nonprofit world.
The Smithtown, LI, resident works a full-time catering job in Manhattan, and never formally volunteered for any animal-rescue organizations before starting the Guardians. Growing up in Brooklyn, he always had pets — dogs, cats, fish, frogs, hamsters, even a squirrel. As a teenager he would bring home strays and try to find someone to adopt them.
“As far back as I remember, when my friends on the block would try to hurt the littlest creature, I would always be the first one to pull it away from them,” he says.
He decided to form the group after he heard about a homeowner on Long Island hoarding 21 pit bulls in 2010. While animal con-control was unable to do anything, Misseri convinced the owner to surrender all the dogs to him. While he initially struggled to find them overnight shelter, The Guardians now have a shelter partner in Long Island’s Save-APet Rescue.
Today, the Guardians receive re- quests from all over the country, sometimes as many as 150 to 200 per day, in e-mails, phone calls and messages on the group’s Facebook page. Misseri starts responding at around 4:30 or 5 a.m. each day.
The Guardians operate solely on donations, and many of its cases, especially those outside the tristate area, are solved through phone outreach — getting a pet owner to take a call and negotiating a solution. Sometimes, there is travel, such as after the Louisiana floods in August.
MISSERI has built an eclectic group of about 10 core volunteers, eight of whom appear in the series. One, Billy Hale, is a retired NYPD detective with bulging biceps and sleeves of tattoos.toos. TThe resident veterinarian, Marvin “Moose” Baynes, rides with aa mmotorcycle club and favors biker ggear — like a spiked cuff, skull rring and a bandanna tied over hihis long braids.
The volunteers are key to the group’s success. While Misseri says he can’t get most vets to make house ccalls, someone like Baynes, who grew up in inner-city Philadelphia and operates a mobile veterinary clinic in south Jersey, is perfect for when an animal can’t be removed from a property.
“[I] look like somebody that’s from the same place that they’re from. I think it gets me a little further than some of the other members in certain situations,” says Baynes, 45, who joined the Guardians two years ago. “Especially in Philadelphia, [the neighborhoods] tend to be where I frequent with my bike club.
“Sometimes there are some pretty testy situations, but you try to be smart about it, use your instincts and know when to bail.”
Stephen “Face” Edghill, a 40year-old audio-visual technician, joined the Guardians five years ago after meeting Misseri through a mutual friend. He’s been an animal lover since he was a kid growing up in Flatbush. He got his nickname hanging with a wild crowd as a teen, when he was told he had “too young a face” to be running around on the streets.
“The difference for our team is we’ve got street knowledge,” Edghill says. “We know how to