Beagle brigade: Training detection dogs in Georgia

NEWNAN, Ga. - Agriculture specialists from Customs and Border Protection spend months learning how to prevent plant and animal products potentially harboring pests and diseases from entering the country, a critical line of defense in safeguarding the nation’s farms, food supply and natural resources.

Scooby, meanwhile, is in it for the snacks.

Last week, the 2-year-old recruit snarfed down handfuls of treats earned for finding an apple in a black box and chunks of fruit and meat in a covered bin. He also received a confetti toss of dog biscuits after ratting out some produce and proteins hiding in a black roller bag.

“He’s got a good nose on him,” said Jennifer Anderson, a supervisory training specialist at the National Detector Dog Training Center, the country’s only training facility for agriculture-detection canines.

Scooby also has an insatiable appetite, meaning he is highly motivated to find food and work for treats. This legendary beagle trait is a key reason for the Agriculture Department’s long tradition of deploying the scent hounds at ports of entry, such as airports and cruise terminals.

Members of the Beagle Brigade will happily - and hungrily - sacrifice an Iberian ham or Italian sausage for a low-grade dog biscuit.

“They should act as if their life depends on that treat,” Anderson said.

The reward for a two-pound roasted pig head

The training facility, about 30 miles southwest of Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, is uncannily quiet on a summer morning. The site can house up to 100 dogs, including beagles, a breed known for its loud and varied vocals. Depending on the circumstances, they may bark, bay, howl or yowl.

The Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service, a division of USDA, opened the center in 2009, six years after CPB took over the Beagle Brigade. The 17-acre complex, built specifically for dogs training for agriculture detection, features eight training rooms including a mock baggage claim area, a 100-run kennel where they reside, a play yard with a pink kiddie pool and a parking lot with abandoned cars, which serves as an olfactory obstacle course for Labrador retrievers assigned to border crossings and mail or cargo facilities.

On average, 75 percent of the dogs will successfully complete the program. The pups that fail to graduate will be adopted.

To earn their certification, the canine teams must hit their targets at least 80 percent of the time. Most dogs, however, exceed the minimum, the lure of treats driving them to perfection.

After the four-, eight- or 10-week course, the teams receive their “diploma,” a certificate and pin for the human handlers and a crisp blue CBP harness and sheriff-like badge for the canines.

During Wednesday’s drill, Scooby, Atlas and Argo demonstrated an early aptitude for the job. The proof? Their instructors had dispensed more than two pouches’ worth of rewards.

“We need to watch their little bellies,” said David Jones, a canine training specialist, pausing to let them digest their lessons.

Throughout the year, the center releases newly minted canine detectors into the workforce. CBP said the program has grown to 183 teams of handlers and beagles and Labrador retrievers. Because of the scent hound’s compact size and affable disposition, they are the preferred breed for international arrival terminals. In bustling environments, Snoopy - not Brian Griffin - is everyone’s best friend.

“The beagles are very unassuming,” Anderson said. “Until they sit next to your luggage, you don’t think you’re going to be busted for something.”

CBP records do not say who made the interceptions, but canine teams were responsible for many of 1.3 million prohibited items stopped at U.S. borders. Based on the social media accounts of CBP’s field offices - Maya discovered peppers, yams and chicken seasoning at Chicago O’Hare International Airport; Jullie identified bird products on drums at Tampa International - the beagles’ noses are twitching nonstop.

The Georgia facility also spotlights the achievements of its very good alumni. There is Noah, who uncovered 30 pounds of pork at Newark Liberty International Airport, and Benny, a previously chubby rescue from Missouri who clinched his 10,000th confiscation during his fourth year at San Francisco International. Hardy’s discovery at the Atlanta airport was so monumental, it made national news.

In his photo, the beagle’s mouth is agape as if he is about to take a victorious bite out of his prize, a nearly two-pound roasted pig head.

The big five odors

Over a years-long career, the beagles may snuffle an array of international delicacies, such as bushmeat, curry leaves, mooncakes, live snails, bird’s nests, duck tongue and sea turtle eggs. But first, they must master five basic scents found in most home kitchens: citrus, apple, mango, beef and pork.

“If you train them on a specific red apple, the dog might not generalize to the green one, but as soon as you expose them to it, you open up their world to all those other apples,” said Jakub Holmes, associate director of the training center. “We want them to alert to the whole spectrum of these odors.”

USDA acquires beagles from animal shelters and rescue groups through a vetting process that the agency said is thorough and humane. Many of the dogs accepted into the program would have been otherwise euthanized by the shelters, USDA noted.

The training center also partners with contracted canine vendors that, Holmes said, adhere to strict ethical standards, treating their dogs humanely and compassionately.

“Their focus is on providing healthy, stable, well‑balanced dogs specifically suited for detection work,” he said. “This is not high‑volume breeding for the purpose of selling.”

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) does not have specific insights into the USDA program, but the organization has raised concerns about the general use of working dogs and advocates for animal-free alternatives, such as technology.

Many of the hounds arrive with only the instincts inherited from their English ancestors, who were bred to hunt small woodland creatures, not clementines and meat sandwiches.

Before entering the program, dogs must demonstrate the desired temperament (confident, affable, adaptable, unflappable) and drive. Around humans, they should be friendly but not extreme people-pleasers like their Labrador peers.

“We look for dogs that are social, but not so social they’d rather hang with the people versus doing a job,” Anderson said.

They must be medically sound and athletically fit, as well. (Ditto for the handlers, who require well-oiled knees for frequent bending and the upper-body strength to pull suspect bags off a carousel while tethered to a dog.) The beagles typically enter service between the ages of 1 and 3 - young adults in dog years - and work straight until about age 9.

Once enrolled in the program, the dogs live in government-run kennels, initially at the training center and later by their designated airport or seaport. The accommodations are staffed around-the-clock and contain the usual pet accoutrements of beds, blankets and toys, according to CBP.

Most retirees spend their golden years loafing on the sofa in their adoptive home, a first taste of domestic life for many.

Before the handlers arrive from their respective airports - currently Seattle-Tacoma International, Chicago O’Hare International and Washington Dulles International - the dogs will sniff, sit and snack their way through six to eight weeks of basic training. Once their partners join them, they will train together for up to 10 weeks, depending on the course. Through repetition and positive reinforcement, the beagles will learn to identify the scents of prohibited items in progressively more challenging scenarios.

“The ultimate goal is for the handler to trust that the dog will be able to find it without them knowing where it is,” said Thanisha Reyes, a canine training specialist.

Before the teams attempt a “blind” search, in which the handlers do not know the location of the targets, they will face relatively simple tasks, such as playing “find it” with a single mango or a pound of pork in a suitcase. To increase the difficulty level, the instructor may pile or stack the bags, or mix in a red herring, such as apple-scented lotion, parsley flakes or tilapia, all of which are permitted into the country.

“They’re not getting paid to find lemon curd,” Anderson said.

To expose the canines to the sights and sounds, and legs and luggage wheels, of their future office, they will pile into the school vehicle for field trips to the airport. They typically start in an empty terminal and then advance to an active area, practicing on dummy luggage and eventually real passengers’ belongings. The instructor, upping the difficulty level, may place a suitcase on a baggage claim belt, pushing the dogs to sniff at the speed of luggage carousel.

‘He already knows smell equals treat’

On the fourth day of basic training for Atlas, Argo and Scooby, Jones placed pungent specimens from the five scent categories inside covered bins and roller bags with ventilation holes. The air was redolent of compost.

During Atlas’s first run through the course, the beagle stuck his head in the opening like a child mashing his face into a cookie jar. For the luggage test, Jones pressed his palm on the suitcase, releasing a puff of smells. Atlas caught a whiff, lowered his backside and awaited his reward.

“He already knows smell equals treat,” Jones noted, impressed.

In an adjacent training room, Reyes’s students were entering week three of their 10-week course. Today’s lesson was to find one apple and six pounds of beef wrapped in clothing and packed in suitcases strewn about like unclaimed luggage in baggage claim.

Rosemary Onyegbule volunteered to go first. She disappeared out a back door and retrieved Simon from a kennel, his tail ticking like a metronome. He bobbed and weaved between bags, his nose vacuuming the air. He passed a blue roller bag and boomeranged back, the scent hooking him. He placed two paws on the hard case and sat down. Nailed it.

“It’s an ebb and a flow, a cha-cha,” said Anderson, who trained dogs for 19 years. “Sometimes you’re going to let the dog take the lead, because they’ve got the nose, and then sometimes if they miss an area, you may need to take the lead. You have to learn how to move together.”

Isa, a beagle mix with a black-and-white speckled coat, was up next. A Maryland family could no longer care for her, so USDA took ownership of her after she passed medical, temperamental and behavioral tests, including an excursion to Baltimore-Washington International Marshall Airport.

In her first two classes, she had failed to match with a handler. It happens, Anderson said, comparing a connection to that of dance partners. But Isa and Reyad Abdulrahman González seemed to click.

When Isa started to stray, eager to say hello to the spectators watching from the sidelines, González redirected her focus with a gentle tug on her leash and a tap on a piece of luggage. It worked. She discovered the apple and meat in quick succession.

“The dogs have a lightbulb moment,” Anderson said, “and they are so proud of themselves.”

Isa even taught herself a new skill. After Reyes removed the bag with meat from the lineup, pushing it into a far corner, the little beagle guided her handler back to it.

Humans refer to the move as double-dipping. To beagles, it’s detection.