Sniffer Beagles have been on duty at the Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport since 2002 (following several stages of planning and international training since 2001). They are used mostly to regulate agricultural products and associated invasive pests and plant diseases.
As direct traffic from China has increased multi-fold in recent years, the need for skilled canine assistance has become more apparent. Of the 53,000+ illicit items nabbed in 2012, the detection dogs were responsible for 90%, whereas the all-too-human customs officers, even with the assistance of fancy X-ray technology, only accounted for 10% of scores. In one notable bust from 2012, detector dogs nabbed 1041 kg of mushrooms, 48 rounds of ammunition, and 277 boxes of bull pizzles stashed in two shipping containers. It’s as if the smugglers were asking to have their contraband seized…
Currently, there are 39 working detection dog teams patrolling Taiwan’s various ports of entry: the Taipei international postal sorting site, the Songshan Airport, the Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport (where the majority are stationed), the Taichung Airport, the Kaohsiung Airport, and the Port of Matsu. Amongst these 39 teams are five dogs that can be moved on assignment as necessary. Each dog averages six working hours a day, with two days of rest per week. At least one day of their working week is dedicated to ongoing training.
In Taiwan, the dogs engaged in pro-active detection (scratching or actively indicating the scent) are Beagles, Labrador Retrievers, and one single Pointer. The passive response detection teams (where the dog moves freely among the public, and sits or lies down in front of its target) are comprised mostly of Beagles, and there is one trained mix in the group.
I guess it’s a good thing this Beagle was not inclined to stay still before me when I was taking his picture!
References and further reading:
Lu, Si-wen 呂斯文. Working plans to implement a sniffer dog program 檢疫犬計畫之規劃構思 (2001). Council of Agriculture, Executive Yuan working group 行政院農業委員會. http://www.coa.gov.tw/view.php?catid=2185
Because we know the holidays aren’t just about feelgood times in the company of family you can’t stand during the rest of the year, here are ten dog movies that will depress the hell out of everyone and totally ruin your holidays. If things are getting too jolly around the living room, load up one of these films and watch the mood plummet faster than you can say, “Hand me the flask.”
Spoiler alert: A prominent canine character dies in at least six out of ten of these titles. The descriptions below may or may not indicate which ones.
To avoid redundancy, I didn’t list anything that had appeared on my previous list of Top Dog Movies, compiled two years ago. That was my arbitrary reason to omit Journey of Natty Gann (1985), Amores Perros (2000), and Inu no Eiga (2005) which could easily have fit here. I also tried to stay away from some of the typical titles that top these lists like Marley and Me (2008) or Where the Red Fern Grows (1974 & 2003); those were probably better off remaining as only literary properties, anyway.
I will, however, begin with at least one obvious choice, primarily because I haven’t blogged it yet.
10. Old Yeller. Dir. Robert Stevenson. Perf. Tommy Kirk, Kevin Corcoran, Spike the Dog. Walt Disney Pictures: 1957.
Having recently rewatched this children’s classic after not having seen it in probably 20 years, I was struck by a few revelations. The biggest was that older brother Travis Coates, whose self-sufficiency and stiff upper lip in the face of emotional trauma seemed so crushable to me as a child, just seems petulant and downright brutish to me now. He may know how to plow and hunt and keep the household in ham, but he’s kind of a jerk — one who just happens to love a dog that even the cruelest kid in the west should be able to love. Screw you Travis, and your annoying little brother too.
The film’s primary redeeming quality is that they knew to give ample footage to Yeller, the hulk of a Lab-Mastiff cur who comes across as a superdog capable of any task you set before him. For Travis to gain a modicum of maturity at the sacrifice of Yeller’s life seems particularly unjust when one witnesses how badly he regresses in the failed sequel Savage Sam (1963). Yeah, Disney sure sent that sequel to the hogs…
9. Hachi, a Dog’s Tale. Dir. Lasse Hallström. Perf. Richard Gere, Joan Allen, Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Chico, Layla, Forrest. Inferno/Stage 6: 2009.
I’m kind of allergic to most romantic leading males (e.g. Richard Gere), so I was initially resistant to this Americanized retelling of the famous story of the loyal Japanese Akita, Hachiko. One masochistic night, I decided to stream this on Netflix, and found it refreshingly sufficient for what little it aspires to be. Transplanted from Tokyo to Rhode Island, this version is relieved of the burden of nationalist authentication, allowing it to “just” be about a dog loving professor and the Akita of his affections. Because their relationship is so untainted and simple, it becomes more like a lament over the poor animal’s inability to process abstractions like death rather than praise for his unflagging loyalty, a sentiment I’ve never been comfortable taking at face value.
Could this spot have been replaced with the 1987 Japanese version (screenshot pictured above)? Well, they used actual Akita instead of Shiba puppies in that one, but it’s kind of hard to topple the downysoft duo of any Nihon ken puppy plus Richard Gere. The American version succeeds by being less moralizing, even gentler, and even more vapid than the predecessor. You don’t have to go into this expecting to think too much, just cry, dammit! Cry! The power of Hachi compels you!
And speaking of sentimental remakes of Japanese originals…
8. Nankyoku monogatari [Antarctica]. Dir. Koreyoshi Kurahara. Perf. Ken Takakura, numerous dogs. 1983.
In 1958, a Japanese expedition to Antarctica had to abandon their team of sled dogs for reasons unexpected and uncontrollable. Fifteen Sakhalin huskies (Karafuto dogs) were left tightly chained to a line with only a week’s worth of food, as the team originally had expected they would return for them. Eight dogs were able to slip or break free of their chains, but then they had to learn to survive in the severe climate and treacherous landscape. Eleven months later, members of the expedition were finally able to return, discovering that two of the original dogs had survived all that time. This film dramatizes that adventure.
With a soundtrack by Vangelis and a pseudo-documentary approach relying on an omniscient narrator to relay the dogs’ thoughts, I suspect the Japanese version strikes a more somber tone than its Disneyfied remake, Eight Below (2006). The Japanese version also presents a more eclectic canine cast than the uniformly purebred Siberian huskies of its American interpretation. With a greater emphasis on the dogs, counting down with each tragic death, there was little attempt to cover up the truth. In fact, a significant side story to the dogs’ survival plot involves one of the expedition members embarking on a grand tour of apology, visiting the families who had contributed sled dogs and personally accounting for his role in the dogs’ noble sacrifice.
At any rate, the austerity of the landscape is thankfully counterbalanced by many scenes of happy, off-leash dogs running fast, loose, and free.
7. Quill. Dir Yoichi Sai. Perf. Kaoru Kobayashi, Kippei Shina, Rafie the dog. Quill Film Partners: 2004.
Quill was raised from puppyhood to be a seeing eye dog, and to spend his life helping others. Due to no fault of his own, he never really gets to stay in a permanent home. His life is his job, such that he barely gets a chance to be a dog. Or rather, as a dog with a job, he has changed the very perception of what it means to be a modern dog. Such selflessness! Such devotion! Such an honorable, purposeful existence! Pass me another tissue, please.
6. Plague Dogs. Dir. Martin Rosen. Perf. John Hurt, Christopher Benjamin, Nigel Hawthorne. Nepenthe: 1982.
As much as we praise the functional dog who works alongside his human partners, there is also a dark side to this relationship, as in the animal testing laboratories of modern industrial societies. Rowf and Snitter are two dogs who escape from such a nightmarish world. However, their presence creates something of a government scandal, as local farmers fear they may be carrying the plague or other diseases created as experiments in bioterrorism. So the hunt is on to capture the errant pair…
Not having read the Richard Adams book on which this animated feature was based, I was completely unprepared for the soul-crushing heaviness of this story. While this is the only animated feature on this list, it is pretty exceptional as far as non-Japanese animation goes, and definitely a memorable title that fully demonstrates how evocative hand-drawn cel art can be.
5. Vidas Secas [Life is Barren]. Dir. Nelson Pereira dos Santos. Perf. Átila Iório, Orlando Macedo, Baleia the dog. Luiz Carlos Barreto Produções Cinematográficas/Sino Filmes, 1963.
Poverty and pets don’t mix. Down with the exploitation of the agricultural peasantry!!
4. Umberto D. Dir. Vittoria De Sica. Perf. Carlo Battisti, Maria-Pia Casilio, Flike the dog. 1952.
Poverty and pets don’t mix. Down with the oppression of the urban underclass!!
3. I Am Legend. Dir. Francis Lawrence. Perf. Will Smith, Abby & Kona the dogs. Village Roadshow: 2007.
A cancer cure gone wrong has turned into a disastrous virus, wiping out 90% of humanity and turning the remaining 9% into photosensitive mutants who feed on the 1% of humans possessing natural immunity. Will Smith plays a military doctor who is part of that exclusive 1%, occupying a depopulated New York City with his faithful German Shepherd, Samantha. She is the only other living thing that responds to language — except, unfortunately, his stop or recall commands when it really, really matters.
After her passing, it seems intolerable for life (or the movie, for that matter) to go on, but it has to conclude somehow. The unwatchableness of the last, dog-less third does its part to ensure some potent ill will towards the filmmakers, if not all of humanity.
2. Pedigree Dogs Exposed. Dir. Jemima Harrison. BBC One: 2008.
While we might fabricate good reasons to distrust science in the name of Hollywood fantasy, there are actually compelling reasons to heed science in our day-to-day transactions, including the breeding of our beloved pets. This British documentary is certainly not the first to have raised concerns about the ethics of purebred dog breeding, but its sensational manner created an unprecedented splash when it was first broadcast — all the better to get the public talking.
The 50-minute long documentary is not without its faults, as the director has no time to spare in airing the happily-ever-after pet stories that we take for normal. She has been targeted by some rather vitriolic breeders and critics, as her blog frequently reveals. Perhaps what’s most depressing is not what this documentary reveals about the health of some breeds as a whole, but rather what it exposes about the mindset of some people at top echelons who have completely warped visions of what it means to be breed stewards.
If the YouTube movie embedded above does not work, just search for another version. It’s readily available online, last I checked. The sequel, Pedigree Dogs Exposed: Three Years On (2011) continues the investigation with some extra footage to be found on the DVDs, available for purchase here.
1. Good-bye, My Lady. Dir. William Wellman. Perf. Walter Brennan, Brandon deWilde, Sidney Poitier, My Lady of the Congo. Batjac: 1956.
So here’s another iteration of boy-gets-superdog, boy-loses-superdog-and-gains-maturation theme. Though I didn’t rank this list in any particular order, I would put this one far higher than the title that began this roundup because the dog is a Basenji, and the Basenji doesn’t die.
TAKE NOTE, future screenwriters and directors! Contrary to convention, the dog doesn’t have to die for the characters to arrive at enlightenment. Leave the dog alone. If somebody’s gotta go, try killing off the boy or mom and dad or a few hundred mutants or half the town’s population first. Audiences and critics will hate you less.
More dog films, including happier ones, can be found by checking out posts filed under FILMS, or accessing the index of dog movies reviewed and screencapped on this blog.
Wylie, Jill. Call-of-the-Marsh: Life with a Basenji. Ill. Sue Ross. Bulawayo: Books of Rhodesia, 1979.
Jill Wylie would have made a fine blogger. This 300-paged diary of the author’s life in Zimbabwe (or Rhodesia, as it was known back then) stirred the same thrills, sympathies, and connections that I get from spying on personal accounts of doglives fully lived. There are, however, significant differences when the author writes from a time and a place so far removed from my own experiences…
The book spans the years 1958 to 1971, or the lifetime of one prized red and white Basenji named Call-of-the-Marsh. Too large to be shown, he was sold to the Wylies with whom he enjoyed life to the fullest as a worker, a hunter, and of course, the author’s precious companion. At some point, a tricolor female Basenji, his half-sister named Whisper, joined the family, but sadly she succumbed to cancer at the age of nine and does not see the book to its end. Call, however, survives well into his 13th year until he passes from various age-related ailments.
It’s a wonderful and captivating read, primarily for the details gleaned on how differently pets are raised and loved in other parts of the world, in different cultural circumstances. Basenjis are much vaunted for their high prey drive and supposed hunting prowess. Wylie works her dogs, but at unexpected tasks — she employs them as search and rescue dogs, freeing wild critters and other pets from cruel wire snares set up and abandoned by local residents. These fierce contraptions reappear often in illustrated form, thanks to the nice ink drawings of Wylie’s collaborator, Sue Ross.
Call is a natural at this task, and works with heroic synergy alongside his mistress. The training regimen is briefly described when Wylie later adds a Doberman(n) named Javelin to her pack to help with the searches. She writes about the difficulties locating a breeder willing to provide her with a natural, undocked pup, as it seems that most breeders in her area are adamant about this detail — a point which she makes some rather pointed observations about.
I abhor the practice of docking. A more senseless, unrewarding, short-sighted mutilation of living flesh, bone and nerve is difficult to imagine. And like sterilisation, once it’s done, it’s done. Forever. Except you can adopt a baby or a puppy if later the loss is felt too keenly. You can’t adopt a tail. […]
I wrote to the Dobermann Club asking to be put in touch with breeders. Avoiding mention of my revulsion for docking, I explained briefly the job I had in mind for my Dobermann and in order to understand her properly, her tail would have to be left on. I thought they would have been glad that a member of ‘their’ breed might be trained for this unique work. (202)
Instead, the Dobermann Club refused to offer any assistance. After much searching, she was finally able to get a pup from a dam bred back to her own father (!). Though unhappy about the close inbreeding, these were the lengths she felt she had to go to in order to get an undocked bitch. [Note: Javelin is apparently the subject of her own book, Search: Dogs to the Rescue in Wild Zimbabwe (Fish Hoek, South Africa: Echoing Green Press, 2008).]
Wylie is quite an independent thinker, and extremely clear-minded about what she intends of her dogs. At one point, she discusses the difficulties of locating a purebred mate suitable for her female Basenji, Whisper. When all other Basenji males prove to be washouts (knowing better than to mate half-brother to half-sister, she does neuter Call), she breeds Whisper to a local Keeshond instead. It’s a strategic cross-breeding meant to fulfill a purpose:
The other day I was looking at a Keeshond. It’s not such a big dog under all that coat. All that coat is the problem, but if the pups were medium-coated it might be a good thing […] Also the Keeshond is of the Spitz group as are Basenjis, so at least I’d know the pups would have erect ears and curly tails, and avoid the awful anxiety of wondering if their ears would come up or stay down […]. Keeshonds are good guards too. The breed is Holland’s national guard dog. (163)
Apparently, Rhodesian kennel clubs (and Australian clubs now) classified Basenji as a spitz type. From this excerpt, it sounds as if cosmetic considerations were prominent in Wylie’s mind, but I think she knew what kind of functional dog she wanted. To her credit, she strove to find appropriate homes for all her puppies, and she did her best to work the offspring in appropriate situations, though the outcome was nevertheless mixed. One can’t engineer every life, after all.
I’m teaching the pups to bark. They’ll probably go to homes where they’ll hear dogs barking and pick it up but the one we keep must be taught. […] I particularly want ours to warn me when there’s a car coming in time for me to run away if I don’t care for visitors. So when I hear one grinding up the drive, I cry, “Car! Car!” and bark. (175)
Indeed, the terrain that Wylie is working with is totally unfamiliar to most urban, modern experiences. She has acres of land at her disposal — enough to establish a nature sanctuary, a task which takes the story in an interesting direction as she collects and rehabilitates a baby mongoose, duikers, Steenbok does, and sick dogs, including free-roaming village dogs and strays from other estates. Her efforts remind one of the overlapping borders shared between human domesticity and the wilderness, and how some unique people truly thrive in the niches bridging the two.
Meanwhile, she lets her dogs roam free, even if they come home badly torn up from encounters known and unknown. I honestly cannot imagine a life of literally treating my dogs like outdoors cats, not knowing what dangers they encounter or who they copulate with (Whisper does get pregnant by some unknown dog earlier in the narrative).
Say what you will about “irresponsible breeding” — a book like this shows that our contemporary construction of the term actually grew out of specific circumstances quite removed from the world of this story. She’s writing from a very different set of canine, not to mention cultural values. Wylie amuses me because she’s rather cavalier about her own role as mother and wife. When she herself becomes pregnant rather early in the story, she does not trouble the reader with excessive descriptions of crib preparation.
The doctor says the baby is lying wrongly and I’m to stay in bed with my feet up, and when the time comes they’ll have me all prepared for a Caesarean, “in case things don’t turn out right”. She renewed my prescription, glue pills probably, to make the baby stick, and smiled like a broken window pane. I hate her. I hate the baby. I hate Jack [her husband].
I quite like Call. (16)
Her defiance against maternity is necessary to bring out her relationship with her dogs in full relief. There is no way that her drive to care for animal creatures is displaced or surrogate motherhood; she already has that at her disposal, so she’s not substituting anything. She’s making a choice. And while some readers might find this attitude disdainful, I find that it adds to her spunk. This woman clearly knows what she wants out of life, and hardly waits for the dust to settle before kicking up another ruckus.
What was her life before, or after Call? We are given few hints, no leads at the conclusion of this book, which comes abruptly… the death of Call being as “natural” an ending as her own pithy elegy. A quick Google search suggests that Wylie still resides in Zimbabwe (at least as of Christmas 2008!), and that Wildwoods, her nature preserve, is still in operation. This pleases me, though I may never get the opportunity to go there myself. In place of such journeys (or a time machine, for that matter), this memoir will suffice.
