Pure Magic

Dogs have a dazzling ability to detect scent. 

I’ve often been amazed at my dogs’ abilities to sniff out birds, for example. On numerous occasions hunting quail in Nebraska, I saw the Brittanys make a sudden direction change, run 30 yards in the new direction and lock up on point. Each time I walked up on those points, I was sure that, at the very least, a pheasant would be what they had detected. It was more likely it would have had to have been an enormous covey of quail to have put out enough scent to have been detected at that distance. Frequently I was stunned when all that had triggered the sudden change of direction and the rock-solid point was a single, tiny bobwhite quail.    

Think for a bit about how wondrous that feat really was. An average northern bobwhite quail measures about nine inches and weighs around six ounces. The scent cone produced by such a little bird must indeed be tiny. Yet, from such a distance and sometimes through tall, heavy cover like switchgrass, the dogs had not only caught scent of the bird but were able to zero in on it without any hesitation or difficulty. Hold a quail up to your nose some time if you get the opportunity. All you’ll get is a slightly musty, feathery scent, and aside from that, you won’t smell anything. We humans couldn’t find a quail by scent on the best day we ever had. But even on their worst days, dogs can. 

I’ve also seen my Chesapeakes, on a hunt for a downed goose on a vast Saskatchewan wheat field — and by “vast” I mean a half section (320 acres) — suddenly execute a 90-degree turn, make a 40-yard beeline to a grain swath and dig the goose out from beneath the cut wheat. How they do it has always left me shaking my head in wonderment at their fantastic ability to detect even the faintest whiff of scent.

Beagles and Beagle mixes are an important part of the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s war against banned plants and animals, sniffing this contraband out in luggage, bags, boxes and parcels. 

Using dogs to sniff out contraband is widespread and well established. Drug- and explosives-sniffing dogs are a staple of many law-enforcement agencies. While these are generally German Shepherd Dogs or one of four Belgian Shepherd breeds, the breeds traditionally associated with police work, almost any breed could do this job if the dog has the right temperament. A well-trained drug-sniffing dog can find marijuana, cocaine, heroin, methamphetamine, opiates, ecstasy (MDMA) and LSD even when it’s well hidden, heavily packaged or covered with distracting scent.

There are true stories of drug-detection dogs finding marijuana wrapped in plastic and submerged in an automobile’s gas tank. A friend who is a deputy sheriff told me that during a search of a suspected drug dealer’s residence, his drug-detection Labrador had once sniffed out a kilo of cocaine wrapped in plastic and concealed in a five-pound tub of peanut butter. He also said that during a recent search of the local high school, a German Shepherd Dog belonging to another deputy had alerted on a student’s locker. Inside the locker was a backpack containing a loaded 9 mm handgun.

However, as phenomenal as these Sporting and Herding dogs’ noses are, they are mere also-rans when it comes to being champion sniffers. Hands down, that honor belongs to the Scenthounds. Beagles and Beagle mixes are an important part of the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s war against banned plants and animals, sniffing this contraband out in luggage, bags, boxes and parcels. All of the coonhound breeds have highly effective noses, including some that are “cold nosed,” able to follow old or “cold” trails.

The Bloodhound is the ultimate sniffing machine.

Of course, the champion sniffer in the Hound Group is the Bloodhound. Contrary to what Hollywood would have you believe, running through a river, changing clothing, dousing yourself with masking odors such as perfume or pine needles, using a scent-killing spray, covering the ground with pepper or leaving stinky meat on your trail to distract the dog’s smell receptors won’t fool a trained Bloodhound — often called “a nose with a dog attached.” The American Bloodhound Club tests this ability to stay on a track despite distractions in their mantrailing program. The mantrailing excellent test, in fact, requires that the trail be 24 to 36 hours old, and the dogs seem to have no difficulty following it. The longest recorded successful “cold trail” was in 1954 in Oregon, when a Bloodhound found a family dead 330 hours, or nearly two weeks, after they had gone missing.  

It’s a rare bunny indeed that can escape a Basset Hound or Petit Basset Griffon Vendéen once the dog is on its trail, as these two breeds are definitely the “reserve champion” sniffers in the Hound Group, second only to the Bloodhound in their ability to follow a trail. In fact, both PBGVs and Basset Hounds are very good search-and-rescue dogs, with many finding employment in this task.

During a search of a suspected drug dealer’s residence, a deputy sheriff’s Labrador Retriever sniffed out a kilo of cocaine wrapped in plastic and concealed in a five-pound tub of peanut butter.

The mystery of how dogs do what they do with their noses is just that — a mystery. Unless dogs somehow learn to talk, it’s likely to remain that way. Scenting conditions usually play a role in how successful a dog will be at finding whatever its quarry may be. Most hunters think they know a lot about scenting conditions. I’ve heard myself and listened for years to my fellow hunters say things like “Ought to be about perfect today. There’s a little frost on the ground, a light breeze, nice warm sun. Dogs should be able to find birds a mile away.” I’ve even seen charts drawn up by outdoor writers that detail scenting conditions, good and bad. The truth is that for all that pontificating, hunters don’t know bupkis about what constitutes either good or bad scenting conditions.  

Hunters are not alone in their ignorance, as not knowing jack squat about exactly how dogs use their noses and what constitutes good scenting conditions applies to virtually the entire human race. Scenting is subject to many variables. Wind direction and speed, terrain, amount and type of vegetation present in an area and dozens of other factors all play a role in whether dogs are successful or come up empty.  

It’s a rare bunny indeed that can escape a Basset Hound or Petit Basset Griffon Vendéen once one of these hounds is on its trail. 

Dogs are generally thought to have somewhere between 100 and 230 million scent cells in their noses, compared to about five million for humans. It’s been said that if a human’s scent receptor area is the size of postage stamp, a dog’s would be the size of a handkerchief — and not one of those dainty little lacy jobs, but rather like that of an old-fashioned farmer’s bandana. I know a guy who is a brew master. A significant part of his job requires an excellent sense of smell. But as a dog owner, he’d be the first to admit that on his very best scenting day, he couldn’t come close to competing “scentwise” with the most stone-nosed dog.

What’s more remarkable is that dogs know which way a trailed creature went but how they know is a total mystery. Perhaps the scent is a tad stronger in one direction or another? A dog hot on the trail of a pheasant, for example, will ignore cross trails and will stay on the trail of the running bird. Is that because each bird has a different scent, or is it because the scent of the trailed bird is just a tiny bit hotter, or does a wounded bird give off a different scent than one that hasn’t been shot? Those are questions that can only be answered by the dogs, and they’re not about to reveal the secret.  

Those of us who hunt with our Sporting breeds, Standard or Miniature Poodles, Airedales or hounds know that if it weren’t for their noses, we could leave the dogs at home unless we really needed someone or something to yell at. We can recognize good cover, and while the dogs cover a lot more ground than we do, we can see the areas that are likely to hold birds or critters. But we can’t smell those rabbits or game birds or other critters that are hiding in a thicket or some really heavy cover waiting for us to pass by. At one time or another, everyone who hunts pheasants with a dog has seen the dog trap and catch birds that were burrowed in thick vegetation and could not get airborne in time to escape the dog. The only way anyone or anything could have known there was a bird hidden in that cover was to smell it. I have, on several occasions, walked right over the top of a bird and seen absolutely no sign there was anything in that area but a lot of switch grass, only to have the dog come through that same area a few seconds later and roust out a pheasant rooster.

We have to accept that a dog’s scenting ability is simply a miracle of nature, even more so because there’s no way to study it. We can talk about molecules, Jacobson’s organ and use a lot of other wise-sounding scientific jargon to try and explain a dog’s phenomenal scenting capabilities. But, personally, I think it’s a whole lot simpler than any fancy scientific explanation. What it is, really, is pure magic.