Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
The net effect of Anderson's acts was both complex and simple: It made law enforcement
even more suspicious of volunteers. That's understandable but not entirely rational. Healthy
skepticism should reign in all work that involves prosecuting someone for a crime. Dogs'
noses should be just one of many tools. They can be great, and they can do things other tools
can't. They aren't mystical, and they aren't perfect. They do need to be reliable.
• • •
There's no shortcut to reliability except constant diligent training. After I had put Solo back
in the car that discouraging night in the warehouse, I joined Mike Baker at the other end of
the hot, dusty building, where he was working with a green handler learning how to “detail,”
running his hand up and down near the storage shelves, sketching W patterns in the dusty
air, asking the dog to “check up,” “check down,” “check here.” The little Malinois was already
panting, hyperventilating. At a certain point, the tired dog paused and started to lock in on
a box with his nose, but Mike murmured behind the sweaty handler, “Keep him moving.” A
false alert averted.
Timing is important at any stage, but it's essential early on. I was learning not to slow and
hover but not to move so fast that Solo overlooked something important.
If the drugs or the gunpowder or the bone is actually there and a handler tries to move
on? The dog learns how to “commit,” to plant himself stubbornly and ignore the handler's
prevarications or even a slight jerk on the lead to come off the scent, a pull that a less-evolved
working dog might respond to.
It's not mystifying. It's not eerie. It is a beautiful sight, a dog trusting his nose, ignoring his
handler's efforts to get him to unstick himself from the flypaper scent that he's stuck to. The
dog who ignores the handler's gaze, which is irrelevant to the task at hand. This is what real
faith should look like—hard and unwavering. This is what the co-evolution of a working dog
and handler should look like. The dog's commitment to the truth in the face of your moving
away. That's real teamwork—the dog pointing his nose or paw or entire body at the scent,
telling his handler, You bloody idiot! It's here!
