Beagles Sniff Out Travelers' Illegal Food -- Dogs Keep Destructive Bugs Out Of The Country

CHICAGO - Minutes away from crunch time at the world's busiest airport, Tom Miller candidly concedes he's a bit concerned about his work partner's professional attitude - or possible lack of it, given that his partner is just back from vacation and may still be in the manana mode.

"He's been off the job for eight days," explained Miller, a U.S. Department of Agriculture plant-protection and quarantine officer at O'Hare's bustling International Terminal. "He may go out there and do a lot, or he may just not be in the mood."

USDA officer Vanessa Beldon, Miller's co-worker, shakes her head sympathetically. She knows just what Miller is talking about. Her own partner, usually such a go-getter, had a rare bad day earlier in the week and spent most of his shift lying around the office. "Just one of those things," Beldon said with a shrug.

Seemingly oblivious to the discussion about their professional demeanor, the two government employees in question enjoy their remaining few minutes of leisure before reporting for work in their snappy green USDA jackets. Miller's partner scratches behind his ear and yawns. Beldon's partner nips frenziedly at a yarn toy, then turns his attention to the peanuts in a visitor's coat pocket.

Meet Sparky and Phyto, members of the USDA Beagle Brigade, America's four-legged first line of defense against scores of insect pests and dozens of plant and animal diseases capable of crippling American agriculture.

Why beagles? "They're hunting dogs, with a mild temperament, and they're good around kids," explained Miller, a USDA canine officer for the past six years. "We don't want to intimidate people."

A PASSIVE RESPONSE

Seven days a week, specially trained beagles are on duty at 18 airports around the country, sniffing out potential trouble in the form of meats, fruit and other prohibited plant and animal products carried into the United States by international travelers.

Schooled at Beagle Brigade centers operated by the USDA's Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service in New York, Miami and San Francisco, the dogs spend 12 weeks learning to "respond passively" - sit down - when their highly sensitive sniffers encounter the scents of citrus fruit, mango, beef or pork in travelers' luggage.

For the beagles, the pay's not great. Sparky and Phyto work for treats, earning a biscuit, a bit of beef jerky or an ersatz sausage snack every time they score a hit. On the other hand, the benefits are good: free room and board and all-expenses-paid visits to the vet, with dental checkups and teeth-cleaning sessions definitely included in the package. Observed Miller, "If they can't chew those treats, what's going to motivate them?"

EXPERIENCE HELPS

According to the USDA, which launched the Beagle Brigade in 1984, dogs with one year's experience sniff out prohibited products 80 percent of the time. Another year on the job, and their success rate soars to 90 percent. Sparky, 7, is the seasoned pro of O'Hare's doggy duo. Phyto, christened Phyto Sanitary Certificate after a USDA document, has - like Beldon - been on the job since January. At 2 1/2, he's still fine-tuning a few of his skills.

"When he smells meat, he tries to get into the bag and get at it sometimes," Beldon explained. "We're working on that."

As the first international flights of the dogs' workday begin to arrive, Beldon and Miller fasten leashes to their partners' collars and head out of their office, also known as the Dog Room. In a typical day, Sparky and Phyto each will meet eight or nine incoming flights between noon and 7:15 p.m., sniffing as many as 175 passengers' bags per planeload.

Miller pulls a flight schedule out of his back pocket. Sparky perks up noticeably.

"He thinks I'm pulling out a treat," Miller explained as he and Sparky head for a baggage carousel where passengers arriving from Dusseldorf, Germany, many laden down with carry-on luggage, await their suitcases. Beldon and Phyto head for another carousel, where similarly burdened passengers await luggage checked through from London's Heathrow Airport.

Despite Miller's fears, Sparky immediately begins sniffing bags in a workmanlike fashion, occasionally standing on his hind legs to bring his nose in contact with a traveler's backpack or bags stowed in a luggage cart.

"Considering that he's been off for eight days, I can't complain," said Miller, who spent the past week at a USDA conference while Sparky hung out at the kennel. Dogs work only with their assigned trainers, so when Miller's not working at O'Hare, Sparky gets a vacation.

Suddenly, Sparky sits down beside a luggage cart holding a large tote bag belonging to a young woman.

"Such a cute dog!" the bag's owner exclaimed. Miller politely asks if she has food in the bag. The woman produces an apple, a couple of lemons and a plastic bag holding a boiled potato and some cooked chicken. The cooked food is OK, but the apples and lemons have to go.

Miller holds the fruit out for Sparky to sniff and pops a treat into the dog's mouth. "He expects it right away," Miller explained, as Sparky gulps it down.

Miller drops the confiscated fruit off temporarily at a nearby U.S. Public Health checkstand; later, he will take it to what's called the Grinding Room at O'Hare for further inspection before it's destroyed in a grinder. Confiscated meats are burned after inspection.

IT CAN BE A BIG DEAL

Bringing in a few pieces of fruit or meat may not seem like such a big deal, but that innocent-looking orange, for example, can introduce agricultural scourges such as citrus canker or harbor pests such as Oriental or Mediterranean fruit flies. (According to the USDA, it's likely that a piece of wormy fruit carried in by a traveler brought the medfly to California in 1979; eradicating the pest cost more than $100 million.) Some foreign meat products, such as sausages, can harbor animal disease organisms that can survive processing; if the meat ended up in garbage fed to domestic swine, for example, it could wreak havoc on the U.S. hog industry.

During the next 15 minutes or so, Sparky sniffs and sits a half-dozen times, ferreting out oranges, pears, apples, a box of Swiss chocolates and a ham sandwich. The chocolate is OK; the fruit and ham are confiscated.

"If he's done really well, at the end of the day I give him a bonus biscuit," Miller said.

Meanwhile, a few carousels away, Beldon and Phyto move quickly through the crowd of passengers waiting for baggage from Heathrow.

Several flights and several hours later, the beagles are ready for an afternoon rest. En route to the Dog Room, Beldon and Sparky pass by the baggage X-ray area, where the luggage of passengers arriving from certain agricultural "high-risk" areas is checked at random. Finds so far today are fairly routine, but sometimes, USDA officer Ross Nichols explained, the X-rays turn up something out of the ordinary - like the guy who arrived from Greece with a freshly slaughtered goat wedged into his suitcase.

"It had the head on it and everything," Nichols recalled.