When kelpie-cross Kip sits down while riding a paddle board, scientists pay attention
In May 2024, on a rocky expanse of tussock-grassland on Melbourne's western outskirts, Zoos Victoria detection dog officer Nick Rutter observed his canine colleague Daisy suddenly cease her nose-down sweep of the terrain and sit down. Turning her head, her eyes caught his as if to say, Nick, you're going to want to see this.
With a quickening heart, Rutter caught up to Daisy – a small, eight-year-old Lagotto Romagnolo with a brown woolly coat as tight as an '80s perm – and spied in the dirt beside her a tiny burrow, into which he fed an endoscope camera. 'And I could see this tiny, gorgeous [Victorian grassless] earless dragon face peering back at me,' Rutter says, referring to the 15-centimetre-long creature – the most imperilled reptile in Australia. 'It was an absolutely amazing, career-defining moment. A moment of joy.'
Estimates of the sensitivity of dog noses relative to human noses vary wildly, from 10,000 to 1 million times more sensitive. Whatever the number, it explains why humans have long made use of dogs' highly tuned olfactory abilities to aid them in everything from hunting game to detecting cadavers, drugs, explosives, cancer – and endangered species. As of June this year, Rutter and his (human and canine) colleagues at Zoos Victoria's Wildlife Detection Dog Program have assisted threatened-species biologists in finding 15 Victorian grassland earless dragons, a species not seen for half a century and thought extinct until one was found in 2023.
The dog squad, based at Healesville Sanctuary within the Coranderrk Bushland Nature Conservation Reserve 60 kilometres north-east of Melbourne, isn't only searching for the tiny reptile, which is now the subject of a breeding program. The squad's five dogs are also trained to sniff out broad-toothed rats, Tasmanian devils, Baw Baw frogs and platypuses.
In lieu of a salary and superannuation, the dogs, who live on site, are compensated with hugs, treats, soft toys and play. 'We call it a 'party',' says Rutter, who was never allowed a dog growing up and is now making up for it. 'So when they find their target, we kind of get down on our hands and knees and have a party with them. Some of the dogs really like a tennis ball and to let off a lot of steam. Some like a high-value reward, like a nice bit of boiled-up venison or some chicken. Daisy, she's a cuddler.'
The training process is a slow one, says Naomi Hodgens, fellow detection-dog team member along with La Toya Jamieson and Rutter. Over about nine months, trainers begin familiarising the dogs with their new target while teaching them to ignore competing odours. Eventually, the dogs are taken out into the field to find their species in situ.
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Hodgens and Jamieson are currently surveying platypus numbers within the Coranderrk Creek. To combat some of the hard-to-access bushland, Kip, a 10-year-old kelpie-cross, and Moss, a six-year-old labrador, have each been trained by Jamieson to stand on the bow of paddle boards while Hodgens and Jamieson navigate through the creek. When the boards come within a metre or two of an occupied platypus burrow, which can be hidden from human view, the dogs sit and point their noses in the direction of the burrow.
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In May 2024, on a rocky expanse of tussock-grassland on Melbourne's western outskirts, Zoos Victoria detection dog officer Nick Rutter observed his canine colleague Daisy suddenly cease her nose-down sweep of the terrain and sit down. Turning her head, her eyes caught his as if to say, Nick, you're going to want to see this. With a quickening heart, Rutter caught up to Daisy – a small, eight-year-old Lagotto Romagnolo with a brown woolly coat as tight as an '80s perm – and spied in the dirt beside her a tiny burrow, into which he fed an endoscope camera. 'And I could see this tiny, gorgeous [Victorian grassless] earless dragon face peering back at me,' Rutter says, referring to the 15-centimetre-long creature – the most imperilled reptile in Australia. 'It was an absolutely amazing, career-defining moment. A moment of joy.' Estimates of the sensitivity of dog noses relative to human noses vary wildly, from 10,000 to 1 million times more sensitive. Whatever the number, it explains why humans have long made use of dogs' highly tuned olfactory abilities to aid them in everything from hunting game to detecting cadavers, drugs, explosives, cancer – and endangered species. As of June this year, Rutter and his (human and canine) colleagues at Zoos Victoria's Wildlife Detection Dog Program have assisted threatened-species biologists in finding 15 Victorian grassland earless dragons, a species not seen for half a century and thought extinct until one was found in 2023. The dog squad, based at Healesville Sanctuary within the Coranderrk Bushland Nature Conservation Reserve 60 kilometres north-east of Melbourne, isn't only searching for the tiny reptile, which is now the subject of a breeding program. The squad's five dogs are also trained to sniff out broad-toothed rats, Tasmanian devils, Baw Baw frogs and platypuses. In lieu of a salary and superannuation, the dogs, who live on site, are compensated with hugs, treats, soft toys and play. 'We call it a 'party',' says Rutter, who was never allowed a dog growing up and is now making up for it. 'So when they find their target, we kind of get down on our hands and knees and have a party with them. Some of the dogs really like a tennis ball and to let off a lot of steam. Some like a high-value reward, like a nice bit of boiled-up venison or some chicken. Daisy, she's a cuddler.' The training process is a slow one, says Naomi Hodgens, fellow detection-dog team member along with La Toya Jamieson and Rutter. Over about nine months, trainers begin familiarising the dogs with their new target while teaching them to ignore competing odours. Eventually, the dogs are taken out into the field to find their species in situ. Loading Hodgens and Jamieson are currently surveying platypus numbers within the Coranderrk Creek. To combat some of the hard-to-access bushland, Kip, a 10-year-old kelpie-cross, and Moss, a six-year-old labrador, have each been trained by Jamieson to stand on the bow of paddle boards while Hodgens and Jamieson navigate through the creek. When the boards come within a metre or two of an occupied platypus burrow, which can be hidden from human view, the dogs sit and point their noses in the direction of the burrow.
