(Undercover) PET TRACKER
Chapter 9, Part 1: Undercover Pet Detectives (Part 2 of 2)
NOTE FOR THE VISUALLY IMPAIRED: This story is also available as an audio recording, read by Kat, the author.
This is Part 2 of my Pet Tracker story where my search dog Rachel and I responded to a zoo facility to search for a missing snake named Barry.
You are actually about to read a section from the middle of my memoir PET TRACKER. To read the FULL Substack (free!) version from the very start, go to this link, scroll down until you see the Scroll Down > icon-thingy and click on it. Then, scroll all of the way to the very bottom and you can start reading the beginning of the book with the “Dedication & Introduction.”
As it turned out, the zoo was closed to the public that day. The crowd standing by the security kiosk was a group of zoo employees and a few volunteer docents. They were all already aware that Barry was missing and completely unfazed by the PA announcement about my intentions. Moments later, Darla, a petite blond woman in her mid-twenties, met me at the gate. After a short briefing, I grabbed my canvas bag, unloaded Rachel, and followed Darla into the zoo.
The zoo was a jungle of ferns, flowers, trees, and thick brush. Misters kept the area cool. Finches and pigeons pecked at discarded popcorn crumbs on the ground. A small flock of peacocks strutted around, and a male squawked in protest with a loud screeching noise when he saw Rachel. Darla gave me a mini-tour as we passed by cages that housed wildcats, wolves, antelope, and other animals.
The snake hut was a small building about the size of an average living room. Visitors could view the snakes in their giant aquariums from a cool, covered patio. Barry had somehow pushed aside the screen from his glass cage. It was believed that he could have escaped into the ceiling or walls and might still be inside the hut somewhere. Because of this, I had requested that all the snakes be removed from the building so I could use Rachel in a detection mode. I knew that one of Barry’s snakeskins was available, and I would use that as my scent article.
Darla took me through the hut’s locked door and we entered the area where the caretakers would normally access the snakes to feed them and clean their cages. I glanced down and saw that Rachel’s nose was already quivering. I also noticed several tennis-ball-sized holes in the wall.
“Last week, we brought a vet who had a scope-like camera,” Darla said. “We drilled holes all over the place to look inside the walls and in the ceiling, but we couldn’t see Barry.”
“Where is Barry’s snakeskin?” I asked. “I want to let Rachel sniff it so she knows what she is searching for.”
Darla opened the bottom drawer of a metal desk and took out a paper sack. She reached inside and pulled out a snakeskin that, I swear, at its widest part was the size of one of my thighs. I suddenly understood just why the staff of the zoo didn’t want the media or the paying public to know that Barry the boa was missing. There would be no “Reward: Lost Snake” posters on this case.
After harnessing Rachel, I presented her with the mammoth snakeskin. I suspected that trying to give her a scent article would be a lost cause. The room probably still smelled like one gigantic snake and expecting a detection dog to pinpoint the scent of a stationary snake in the midst of other odors was asking a bit much.
Rachel snuffled the dry skin intently and began casting around the room. At one point, she lifted her nose high and, to my surprise, planted her front paws on the top of the desk as she jutted her nose high toward the ceiling and rapidly sniffed. Darla climbed up and, using a flashlight, peered through a few of the holes that had been drilled in the ceiling, but there was no sign of Barry. I took Rachel back to the place she had alerted, but she did not alert again. It was likely that she was picking up leftover scent from Barry plus all of the other snakes that had been taken out of the room. After allowing her to sniff around on her own, I began to direct Rachel to sniff in the many holes in the sides of the wall.
“Check this,” I commanded as I pointed to a hole. Rachel would stand on her hind legs in order to poke her nose in the hole and give it a whiff. We did this through the room, checking all the holes, but we didn’t come up with any alerts. There was a small hole in the floor that Darla suspected Barry had used to slither out of the hut and into the free world. Based on Rachel’s work, this seemed quite possible.
Darla asked if we could start to check around the premises to see if Rachel showed any interest. I agreed, knowing that this would be a much easier and more realistic detection assignment for my dog. We walked out the door and Rachel immediately pulled me over to one of the giant wooden snake boxes. She sniffed through the wire mesh top, wiggling her tail with excitement, as I watched a big snake move below her nose. I told Rachel she was a good girl but she had found the wrong animal, and walked her to an area away from the maze of displaced snakes. A few employees had been watching our search work and as soon as we were finished in the hut, Darla put them back to work in putting all the snakes back where they belonged.
For the next two hours, we searched the zoo and found no trace of any snakes outside of the vicinity of the snake hut. Darla was grateful that we had tried and seemed comforted to know that Barry probably wasn’t lingering under any of the zoo’s rides or exhibits, waiting to surprise an unsuspecting visitor.
Although we left the Barry search without making a find, I still gave Rachel her cheddar cheese reward before the long drive home.
AUTHORS NOTE: It wasn’t until my memoir was published (in 2004) that I heard from Darla again. Barry had been found. He was up in the ceiling, deceased, and passed away due to starvation / dehydration. I was bummed that Rachel had not given a stronger alert on the ceiling, but search dogs are never 100% accurate. Expecting Rachel to zero in on a scent source that was so high above her head when there was so much competing snake scent swirling in the room was apparently too much to ask of her.