Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
Solo and I got a chance to train at nine-thirty. The temperatures outside had dropped into
the low nineties, but it was about a hundred degrees inside the building. Finally, Mike turned
to me and said the even, quiet words that would become so familiar: “Why don't you go get
your dog?”
I could barely see Solo's bat-eared silhouette. He had fogged the inside windows of the car
I had kept running to keep him cool. I remembered to walk him to let him pee before we
entered the warehouse, but that was simply an opportunity for him to realize the threat he
faced. Patrol-dog urine coated the weeds up and down the block. Solo walked into the vo-
luminous dark warehouse, stiff-legged and hackled. The scent of all the hyped Malinois and
Dutch shepherds permeated the air.
We performed abysmally. I didn't have a search pattern. I was trembling slightly. Solo i-
nally stopped shooting glances over his shoulder to see whether dogs were stalking him and
got down to work, moving down the long rows of stacked planks in the rear of the warehouse.
He easily found the hides Mike had placed. I saw that from his behavior change. Mike saw
it, too. Solo went to each hide, sniffed it, and then walked past it. No alert. Pathetic. I can't
remember whether I made excuses. Probably. Mike was sympathetic, complimented Solo on
his “work ethic,” but explained that he wanted a narcotic-dog alert: nose unerringly pointing
to the hide, even if the dog's eyes were rolling up and backward wildly, anticipating the toy
reward coming from the handler behind him. Solo, he said, was paying a bit too much atten-
tion to “Mom” during the search. That was unusual for Solo; my own fear smell must have
been rolling off in waves, distracting him from his dog obsession.
It felt wonderful to put Solo back in the car and return to watch dogs find hidden hand-
lers, fake suspects, perched in the warehouse's massive rafters. The dogs' deep warning barks
rang out along with their handlers' standard warnings. “Suspect in the building. This is
Durham K9. Come out with your hands up. This is your final warning. Come out with your
hands up, or I will send the dog.”
The professional term for sending the dog after someone is “suspect apprehension.” The
informal term is “bite work.” Released, the patrol dogs tracked the suspects, found the sus-
pects, and barked harshly. Sometimes the suspect would throw the dog a toy reward, a Kong
or tennis ball, and that was the end of the exercise. Other times the suspect would descend
from the rafters in a jute bite sleeve, threatening. The dog would launch, mouth gaping, all
four feet in the air, slamming into the hard sleeve. The dog would be encouraged to hang on
while the suspect struggled, sweat mixing with dust and dog saliva.
“Praise him up,” Mike counseled a handler, who ran his hand approvingly over the muzzle
of his biting dog, calming him down, getting him to hold hard and securely until he was told
to let go, or until the decoy could safely shed the sleeve like a slipped skin, giving the dog the
final reward for his work: a big chew toy.
