Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
an experienced trainer and handler who, Myers noted, works double-blind problems con-
stantly.
A big clump of teams came in between 60 and 85 percent reliability. Eighty-five percent
is quite respectable. Sixty percent, not so much. That starts to get closer to chance. Thirty
percent reliability should make you think about changing the dog or the handler or the entire
training regimen.
“It was interesting to see how bloody awfully a lot of people did who thought they were
hot shit,” Myers commented. “I have given up being amazed at how people can think they're
honestly doing something right, and how self-deluding they can be.”
• • •
He has testified under oath, for example, that even though he does not keep detailed records of his
activities he knows that his dogs have almost never been wrong. According to [Keith] Pikett, as of
2009 his dog “Clue” had been wrong once out of 1,659 lineups. “James Bond” had been wrong
once out of 2,266 times. “Quincy” had only been proven wrong three times in 2,831 lineups.
—Innocence Project of Texas report, 2009
Although it's rare, extreme canine versions of Clever Hans have appeared in America's
courtrooms, with verdicts of guilt or innocence at stake. Math tricks played for the amuse-
ment of crowds can morph into dog tricks played in front of gullible juries, sending innocent
people to prison. When handlers lie about or exaggerate their dogs' capabilities under oath,
it poisons the well for handler testimony and the credibility of the dog's nose.
This is the kind of testimony that exercises Roger Titus, vice president of the National
Police Bloodhound Association. Over the past decades, he has worked trails with his many
bloodhounds that made him proud. That work has helped put guilty people in prison. When
his dogs are able to follow three- and four-day-old trails, he's incredibly pleased. What un-
dermines the work are the lies he hears in training and on the witness stand. he stories can
become albatrosses around the necks of conscientious trainers and handlers. “On occasion,
it has become outrageous,” Roger said of handlers' claims. “Four months old? Impossible.
People who put trails out in January to run in May are full of it.”
The danger signals are clear, Roger said. “It's the handler who wants to be a legend in his
own mind.” Yet such legends end up as sworn evidence in the courtroom and cautionary tales
in law journals. Scent evidence, or a dog's sniff, should be one piece of many pieces of evid-
ence in a case, but sometimes it's the major evidence. That's a problem.
Now-deceased Pennsylvania State Trooper John Preston was one such legend. His fraud-
ulent claims of his dog's ability to track scent led to as many as sixty people being convicted
