Meet the canine officers guarding American agriculture
DULLES, Va. — As a throng of travelers at Dulles International Airport elbowed their way to the baggage carousel on a recent sweltering afternoon, a federal officer zeroed in on a tired woman, sniffed her suitcases and sat down.
Hair-E, a six-year veteran at Dulles and a brown and black beagle, glanced knowingly at his human handler, Don Polliard.
“Do you have any meat or fresh vegetables or fruit in that bag?” Polliard, an agriculture specialist for Customs and Border Protection, asked the passenger.
Yes, she reluctantly conceded. Contraband, just as Hair-E suspected. As Polliard instructed the traveler and her husband to take their many bags and go through a secondary round of inspections, Hair-E lurched toward a red plastic bag a carousel away, already following the lure of the next scent.
As a member of the government’s Beagle Brigade, Hair-E is one of 180 hounds deployed at airports, border crossings and postal depots across the country. Clad in blue vests emblazoned with government logos, they roam airport corridors to detect and intercept prohibited foods or plants that could carry diseases and wreak economic and ecological havoc on U.S. agriculture. And with international travel returning to pre-pandemic levels, Hair-E and his colleagues are seizing an increasing number of goods outlawed from entering American soil.
Typical recruits are young rescues that complete up to 13 weeks of training at a center in Atlanta, where they learn to discern five basic odors: apple, citrus, mango, pork and beef. Their time in the field naturally expands their olfactory repertoire. About three-quarters of the dogs graduate from the program and are then placed at ports of entry. After a few years of service, members of the brigade retire at about 9 or 10 years old, when they are often adopted by their handlers.
Unassuming in size, friendly in nature and renowned for their sense of smell, beagles are preferred to patrol baggage carousels while larger breeds like labradors sniff out docks and cargo facilities.
Of course, few travelers are thrilled when their carefully hidden delicacies are unearthed, even if the detection comes with a wagging tail. But neither the dogs nor their handlers are swiping the confiscated food.
“When you’re taking their $900 prosciutto ham that they bought and were sure that they can bring in, I get why we’re not their favorite person, but I promise we’re not taking it to the back room to eat,” said Christopher Brewer, the Customs and Border Protection agriculture branch chief for airports in the Washington area.