Michelle followed along behind her little tracker. Archer led her down the driveway to the back unit, and then to a side gate. She opened the gate for him and he tracked into the backyard and up some stairs to a decked area. He indicated at the back door, where there were two sets of runners. Could these belong to the graffiti artists?
Michelle radioed for a local unit to meet her and make some enquiries with the occupants of the unit. When the other officers arrived, a woman answered the door. The police told her that a police dog had tracked to her house after a graffiti incident, and she invited them inside to look in her son’s bedroom. The young man had spray paint all over his hands and spray cans in his backpack. His mate, exhausted from running away, had already fallen asleep; he had a rude awakening. Both boys admitted to the graffiti, and were charged.
While it was a relatively minor offence, Michelle was thrilled with Archer’s tracking ability. Even though in the big scheme of things, they had only caught two young graffiti vandals, the job satisfaction was amazing. Through Archer, Michelle was really beginning to understand the true capabilities of a good police dog.
Archer’s third catch followed another school alarm. By the time Michelle arrived at the school, the alarm had stopped tripping, indicating that no one was inside anymore. Uniform members had arrived before Michelle and had already completed an external search of the area, but had found no sign of forced entry. They reckoned it must be a false alarm. Because the building was locked, the police couldn’t get inside to check if anyone was there; considering the alarm had stopped, it was unlikely that anyone would be inside.
Michelle always preferred to do her own external checks – just to be sure. Sometimes police dogs would pick up something that the police humans had missed. As she walked around the outside of the school, Archer started to indicate human scent at one corner of the building. Michelle peered through the window, but all she could make out was a piano on the far side of the opposite wall. She tried to keep walking but Archer pulled her back to that same corner. The dog grew frantic, and he wouldn’t stop barking his excited high-pitched bark. Michelle couldn’t see anyone, and for a moment she thought her dog had lost the plot.
As soon as a security guard arrived with keys, Michelle sent Archer inside to do a building search. He immediately ran into the classroom in that same corner of the building and began to bark. She followed him into the room and found two young men hiding under the piano, no doubt hoping that the noisy police dog would go away.
More than anything, this capture reinforced the first thing she was taught when she came to the Dog Squad: ‘Trust your dog’.
❖
Another of Archer’s tracks occurred in a block of units, where there had been reports that a man had entered one of the units and been chased out by the occupants. Michelle arrived at the scene and put on Archer’s tracking line. The dog picked up a scent and tracked down the driveway of the units, towards the back fence, but then he turned and went up a flight of stairs. Archer sniffed a door, indicating that was where the trail ended. Michelle called in the local uniformed officers to question the man. It turned out that he was the intruder.
Michelle was amazed at the difference in tracking ability between her two dogs. Luger never would have done that; he would have been too busy marking his territory to bother about tracking. It wasn’t until Michelle worked with Archer that she saw the extraordinary power of tracking.
On another occasion, Archer tracked a woman who had fled from a car accident. After nearly a kilometre and a half, Michelle couldn’t believe the dog was still tracking. But sure enough, he led her straight to a woman hiding in the front yard of a house.
When Archer found his first missing person, it was a 40-degree day and Michelle had been flown into thick scrub by the police helicopter. In the heat, Archer and Michelle had to search for a middle-aged man who had threatened to kill himself before disappearing into the bush.
Suddenly Archer took off, and wouldn’t come when Michelle called him back. Not only had she lost sight of the dog, but also she couldn’t even hear him barking to alert he’d found anything. After ten minutes, Michelle was getting a little frantic. Eventually, Archer emerged from the scrub, panting and tired.
Ten minutes later, a man followed the dog out. Michelle was incredulous. This was the man they had been looking for. ‘I’ve been hiding in the bush,’ he explained, ‘but when the dog found me, I thought I’d better come out.’
Michelle couldn’t believe that Archer had found the man. He had given her no indication. ‘What did he do when he found you?’ she asked.
‘He just kept nudging me with his nose,’ said the man. Michelle didn’t explain it to the man, but she knew exactly what Archer was doing – he was nudging the man looking for his toy KONG.
The biggest difference between her two dogs was that while Luger needed a wide berth from everyone, Archer was a very social dog. Michelle could take him anywhere and let people pat him. On or off duty, there was no sign of any aggression. However, when aggression was needed, he had an amazing ability to switch it on and respond to her commands. Michelle has learnt so much from both dogs, and honestly believes that a combination of the two would make the perfect police dog – if there were such a thing!
Everybody at the squad wants to be at the forefront of cutting-edge training practices, so discussion and sharing of ideas happens all the time. The squad has employed outside consultants who have brought fresh ideas that the handlers have embraced. As a result, the most up-to-date outside research is being applied to training processes, which are dynamic rather than fixed.
Michelle and her colleagues are beginning to think that this early training and socialising might just be the way to go. Getting dogs when they’re young might make the difference where it counts – in those first formative months of their life, from eight weeks of age onwards. As with all new practices at the squad, Archer’s progress is being monitored closely and with great interest.
Having been through the process with Archer, Michelle can see that beginning tracking, obedience and bite development at the puppy stage helps police puppies to develop to their full genetic potential. Archer’s success has meant that puppies from the squad’s latest litter have all gone to handlers. Michelle feels that she has contributed some fresh ideas to the training process. Not only that, her expertise in the squad has meant that many members seek her advice.
Of course, the proof is in the pudding. The squad has annual trials and Luger has won three times. He won the novice and the overall trophy in his first year. Archer also has won the overall trials trophy in his first year. He also came third overall in the Australasian Police Dog Trials in New South Wales in 2013, at the age of two. It goes to show that the squad’s methods work.
MICHELLE’S TRAINING TIPS
Be consistent from the moment you get a dog. Don’t shift the goal posts; have your rules and stick to them.
Dogs need mental stimulation; boredom leads dogs to behave badly.
If pet dogs are fed out of a treat ball, it gives them something to do – it makes them work for their food.
Dogs should be walked daily, and along different routes to give them stimulation.
Obedience training should be daily.
Teach the dog that nothing in life is free – they are happiest when they are using their brain.
The happiest dogs are working dogs.
Leading Senior Constable Michelle Dench with her second dog, Archer. Michelle’s expertise as a trainer earned her an unbeatable two-dog team.
CHAPTER 12
Claude, Rex and Kruze
Years ago, Gary ‘Claude’ Silinzieds did a training course with a bunch of other police officers, and on the course they were all given a nickname from the then-popular children’s show Shirl’s Neighbourhood. Gary’s nickname – Claude, after Claude the Crow – stuck, and he has been Claude ever since.
As a youngster, Claude grew up surrounded by pets. His European grandmot
her had always had German shepherds; she had also bred them for a time. Claude loved playing with the big dogs whenever he visited her, and quickly developed a sense of which ones to avoid. His own dog was a little Australian terrier. Claude trained the dog to hold on to a rope near the local river, and Claude would swing his dog into the river so he could play like all the other kids. Even as a young lad, Claude found it very satisfying training a dog to do what he wanted it to.
Claude has a vague childhood memory – part his and part filled in by his mother – of a family trip to Canberra when he was around five or six. He approached a uniformed guard on the steps of Parliament House who asked Claude what he wanted to be when he grew up. Claude’s mother remembers it like it was yesterday. Her son said, ‘I’m going to grow up to be a policeman and I’m going to have a police dog.’
Claude doesn’t remember where this idea came from, but for him, the proclamation to the Parliament House guard turned out to be prophetic. That was exactly where he ended up.
After two decades as a dog handler, Claude is part of the selection process for new squad members. He looks for cops with a good grounding in police work; officers who can work independently, and who have quick-thinking skills and quick reflexes. The job also requires extroverts, because it takes that kind of person to bring out the best in the dogs. Handlers have to be assertive in front of the dogs; otherwise the dogs will stand over them. All in all, the Dog Squad consists of extroverted members who rely heavily on each other, but also, more importantly, on their dogs.
‘It is a strange relationship,’ Claude reflects. ‘You develop a strong relationship with the dogs, but at the same time they are a tool of the trade. The dogs are not foolproof. And it’s up to the handler to put the dog in the best position to be useful.’
Claude lost his first police dog, Kaiser, to a snakebite. What had begun as a regular training exercise up at Sydenham ended in tragedy. After the training was over, Claude noticed that Kaiser was a little wonky on his feet, and took him to the vet. The dog’s symptoms were consistent with a snakebite, and the vet administered a broad-spectrum antivenin. While Kaiser rallied overnight, the next day, Claude got a call to say he hadn’t made it.
Because of the fast-paced nature of the squad, Kaiser was quickly replaced by a black-and-tan German shepherd called Rex. Rex had been donated to the squad by an elderly couple in Morwell, who had found the active dog too much for them. His pedigree name was Honeywood Gunrunner. On the way to the squad to donate Rex, his owners stopped at Red Rooster and bought the dog half a chicken and can of lemonade for his last meal with them. After being accepted into the Dog Squad, the Red Rooster was the last taste of takeaway food Rex ever had.
The big difference between Kaiser and Rex was that Rex was very focused on tracking. During training, the dog had shown a strong ability to track when a huge mob of kangaroos had hopped across the scent trail he’d been following. Claude wasn’t sure that Rex would be able to pick up the scent again. But he did.
Rex was consistently disciplined and focused. Claude saw this on their first job together. A milk bar in Ringwood had been robbed by a man wearing a balaclava and armed with a knife. The terrified owners had little information for police; they had not seen which way he’d fled. It was around 9 p.m. and there wasn’t much traffic around. Claude decided to let Rex off the lead. ‘Find him!’ commanded the handler.
And Rex was off: tail wagging, nose to the ground. Claude jogged off after him. At each house, Claude got Rex to sniff around in case the armed robber had gone up a driveway and over a fence. After fruitless searches of a number of front yards, all of a sudden Rex’s demeanour changed. Head up, tail up – there was a purpose about him. Claude clipped the dog’s lead back on and the two made their way cautiously up a driveway. Both handler and dog knew there was someone there.
Claude cast a professional eye around the yard and saw that there was a pretty good chance of containment. He issued a command – not for the dog, but for the crook. ‘I’m a police member and I’ve got a police dog here. Come out.’
There was silence. Beside him, Rex strained and whined. ‘Let me at him!’ the dog would’ve said if he could talk.
Keeping his excited police dog on the lead, Claude let Rex guide him to a car parked in the driveway. At the car, Rex started barking – a sure sign that someone was close. Claude kept enough distance between him and his dog and the car; the offender had been armed with a knife. Using his torch, he could make out the outline of a man lying underneath the car. This was not the resting place of choice for a law-abiding citizen.
Claude moved Rex back and radioed for the locals to come and make the arrest. Claude let his dog bark at the crook until the man was safely in handcuffs. The knife was found later, under the car. Rex had found his first crook and Claude had begun to establish his faith in them as a team. Each crook captured helped build a stronger bond.
Claude had been a dog handler in the Dog Squad for four years when he was called to a job in Barnawartha, south-west of Wodonga, in 1992. A 22-year-old woman had escaped a vicious abduction and attack by a 57-year-old family friend. The man had asked the young woman to give him a lift, claiming that his car had broken down on an isolated road off the Murray Valley Highway. He asked her to pull over in a remote location, and before the woman knew what hit her, the family ‘friend’ had pointed a knife at her and bound her hands. When the man got out of the car to move around to the driver’s side, the young woman was able to slam the door behind him and lock it. Enraged, the man kicked at the window, but the young woman managed to start the car and drive off.
On the three-hour drive to Barnawartha, Claude didn’t know whether he would find the man, but there was always a chance that he might find something. Police dogs often found balaclavas or stocking masks or weapons – items that could all be used as evidence.
Claude arrived at the lonely stretch of country road about six hours after the offender had been left on the side of the road. Claude had faith in Rex’s abilities as a tracker, but he worried that time was not on their side. He was briefed at the scene in the early hours of the morning, and took a good look around. The area wasn’t exactly isolated; it was dotted with small farmhouses. Another handler attended the scene too, and offered to search farm sheds and outbuildings.
Claude cast Rex near a wire fence that separated the road from surrounding farmland. After searching for a scent for 100 metres or so, Rex suddenly became very alert and headed straight to a fence, sniffing intensely at a fence post. That meant someone had either gone over it or leaned on it.
Claude jumped over the fence with Rex, and cast the dog again. There was a lot of mud and water around; it wasn’t raining, but it had been. The torchlight picked up puddles and saturated ground.
A police dog’s ability to track a human scent in tough conditions can be impressive, but Claude wondered if the amount of water would stop Rex. It took two casts to pick up a scent. After a couple of sweeps in an arc as long as the tracking line would allow, Rex indicated he’d found something.
When Rex picked up the scent, the two took off through the squelching paddock. The dog quickly turned into a muddy mess, and Claude knew there would be a bath at the end of this job. While there were other police officers in the area, Claude and Rex were moving through the paddock alone. Because the Dog Squad had been called in, the local cops had remained in their cars so as not to disturb any scent. Watching the dog and watching his footing – and keeping clear of electric fences, which can give dog or handler a nasty zap – kept Claude’s mind off the potential danger ahead: facing an armed offender.
Claude and Rex cleared two paddocks and moved into a third, which had more grass and less saturated mud. The third paddock took them to the Murray Valley Highway. At the road, the dog lost the scent. Claude cast Rex on the other side of the highway in the hope that the man had kept walking and not hitched a ride. Fifty metres up the road on the other side, Rex picked up the scent again. Beauty, thought Claude
. We’re in with a shot.
They tracked over a fence and into another paddock, but this one was different from the muddy ones they had already travelled through. The ankle-high grass, which had been sewn to make hay, was perfect for tracking. Scent stays on the grass as it is crushed down underfoot, and this seems to trap the scent for the dog. It’s a handler’s dream to get a surface like this – Rex’s dream too. He indicated strongly, and Claude followed quickly behind.
Another 50 metres in, parallel to the highway, Rex led Claude to the next paddock. Claude knew the crook was close. And in the distance, the red and blue flashing lights of the police cars trawling the roads gave Claude a small sense that he had backup.
In the middle of the next paddock, there was a cluster of gum trees. In the torchlight, Claude could see an old dead tree lying among the upright trees. It was to this log that Rex made a beeline. Rex put his paws up on the log and started barking – deep, solid, loud barking. From a distance of a couple of metres, Claude began issuing instructions: ‘Keep your hands where I can see them!’
A pair of hands rose up from behind the log.
‘Good boy!’ Claude said to Rex and gave him a pat and a scratch, switching from his gruff crook voice to the excited dog voice smoothly. Rex puffed out his chest and seemed very proud of himself.
Claude yelled out that he’d found the guy, because he didn’t have a country radio. Cops in the cruising cars nearby had their windows down, so they could hear him. Two detectives and some uniformed locals arrived to take over while Claude and Rex looked on from a distance. The mere presence of an excited police dog can keep things calm. One of the detectives picked up the man’s bag, opened it, and spread the contents out on the fallen log. The contents were ominous: a long carving knife, rope and some spare clothing.
The Dog Squad Page 17