K-9 Case Files

The sun was barely up when the conservation agent heard the blast of a shotgun echo off the Ozark hills. A few minutes later, a man walked out of the woods. He was dressed in camouflage, as if he’d been hunting, but he wasn’t carrying a shotgun.

It was early April, the weekend of youth turkey season, when only young hunters — 6 to 15 years old — were allowed to bag a gobbler. But the man wasn’t young. He had gray hair and looked like he was in his 60s.

The conservation agent suspected the man had shot a turkey illegally. But the agent needed evidence — a gun and a dead turkey — to prove it.

Luckily, he knew just who to call for help …

Case File No. 67 - Agent Tex

As soon as I jump out of my patrol truck, I can tell — or rather, smell — that this is going to be an interesting case. You see, I’m no ordinary conservation agent. For one thing, I’m a lot furrier than other agents. For another, I have four legs. But most importantly, I can smell over 40 times better than any human alive. You see, I’m a German shorthair pointer, and my job is to sniff out evidence.

Together, my partner and I enter the woods. With my nose to the cool, damp ground, I snuffle up scents my partner can’t sense. Sniff! A cottontail hopped across the trail a few minutes earlier. Sniff! A human walked along this same path. Sniff! Oh. That’s interesting … Sniff!

I can’t help it. When I smell evidence, I become so focused it’s almost like I’m hypnotized. That’s how my partner finds out I’m onto something. Soon, he sees what my nose already knows.

It’s a dead turkey hidden in the brush. It has been shot. Some of the tastiest meat is missing.

My partner tells me, “Good boy!” and gives me scritches and a dog biscuit. I’m so excited. I am a good boy! But I know there’s still work to do.

I circle the area around the dead turkey. In no time, I find an empty shotgun shell. Now, where’s the gun?

We search for hours and hours. My nose — as strong as it is — starts to wear out. My partner seems tired, too. We decide to call it a day.

As we’re walking back to our patrol truck, I catch a whiff of something interesting. My once-tired nose starts working in overdrive again, and back into the brush I go with my partner. There, hidden behind a fallen log, is a shotgun. My partner slides it open. Inside are the same kind of shells that were used to kill the turkey. And even better, lying beside the gun is a zip-top bag full of turkey meat.

Evidence found. Case closed. My reward — a squeaky toy — squeaked.

Case File No. 311 - Agent Korra

Like Tex, I’m a member of the Conservation Department’s K-9 Unit. Sniffing out evidence isn’t our only job. We also help find lost people and things people have lost. Take this case, for example.

It was a cold winter afternoon when we rolled into the parking lot of a conservation area near Kansas City. A man was standing beside his pickup. I could sense he was upset. He told my partner that he’d dropped his keys while rabbit hunting and was locked out of his truck. It sounded like he needed our help!

One of the man’s sons drew a map of where they’d been hunting. This helped my partner know where to search. But that’s when things got complicated.

The man and his two sons had walked all over a large brushy, briar-covered area looking for rabbits. Then they had walked all over the same area searching for the lost keys. The whole place was crisscrossed and contaminated with scents. My nose was really confused!

I sniffed and sniffed then sniffed some more. In several places, I found shell casings where the hunters had shot at rabbits. Finally, after almost two hours of searching and 4 miles of walking, I found the keys! They were lying in a clump of grass.

“Good girl!” my partner said. He gave me lots of pets and played tug-of-war with me. (That’s my favorite thing to do!)

Keys found. Hunters happy. Case closed.

Case File No. 92 - Agent Astro

It was a sunny September afternoon when my partner parked our patrol truck near a sunflower field in southwest Missouri. Two hunters were waiting for us at the edge of the field. My partner hopped out to talk to them.

Every so often, I heard the booms of shotguns from nearby fields. It was opening weekend of dove season. The hunters told my partner they had seen someone shoot a duck instead of a dove — a big no-no!

Unfortunately, the suspected duck-shooter had left before we arrived. Luckily, the hunters who were talking to my partner had snapped a cellphone photo of the suspect’s license plate. We could track down the duck-shooter — if I could track down the dead duck.

To me, smells are like faces. I can tell one person from another just by what they smell like. The same goes for animals. To my sensitive nose, ducks smell different than doves. So it only took a few minutes for me to find the dead duck lying between some sunflowers in the center of the field.

People who break the law don’t always do it on purpose. When we tracked down the duck-shooter and my partner told him what he had done, he said he was sorry and took responsibility for his actions. After my partner wrote him a ticket, he even asked if he could have his picture taken with the dog who cracked the case. I tried to smile real big.

Duck found. Snapshot snapped. Case closed.

Pups on Patrol

The Conservation Department’s K-9 Unit has nine dogs stationed across Missouri. Each dog works with a specific human partner, or handler.

Training

Before going on patrol, the dogs and their handlers go through months of training. Some of the training teaches the dogs basic obedience: to sit, stay, and heel. Other training teaches them how to search for evidence.

Duties

K-9 dogs wear badges so people know they’re official conservation agents, just like their handlers. Instead of money, the dogs get paid with treats, toys, and pets. K-9 dogs have three basic duties:

• Finding evidence, like guns, shells, or wildlife
• Search and rescue for lost people and objects
• Public programs to show Missourians what they do

Off Duty

When they aren’t working, K-9 dogs are part of their handler’s family. On average, a K-9 dog works for about seven or eight years. After that, they get to retire and live with their handlers.