A dog that’s heaven scent

By Gretchen Ammerman

Whether it’s endlessly chasing a ball or protecting a herd of sheep, a dog with a job is a happier one. And I’ve not met a dog with a cheerier personality and a more important job to do than Buck, the six-year old Labrador retriever who works with US State Trooper Josh Wolcott to track and locate poachers and the animals they leave behind.

“Buck’s title is Conservation Dog,” Wolcott said. “To my knowledge there are only 28 states that have a similar program. We are the only ones in the state right now, but we are adding a second soon.”

Poaching in Oregon is a huge problem, an opinion shared by nature-lovers, hunters and fishermen, alike.

Some of the issues that the team addresses are people shooting game from moving cars and animals shot and left, called “wasting.”

“We only track people who have committed a wildlife crime or who are lost,” Wolcott said. “Buck also does a lot of detection of things hidden in containers like a boat, car or cooler. We train for deer, elk, bear, turkey, waterfowl, salmon, steelhead and sturgeon. We’re not, for example, chasing a person who just robbed a bank because Buck is not an apprehension dog, I mean you can tell by looking at him he’s not going to bite anybody. Once I went back to my car that was parked outside of a bar where I had just helped break up a fight and he was right there fast asleep.”

Sometimes the work is more personal.

“I lost a GPS pretty deep in the woods once and Buck found it,” Wolcott said. “Saved me from a long memo to the State Police, which I very much appreciated.”

Buck was put into the field in 2019 after winning the search for the right dog, then completing a 400-hour training course.

“When we started this program we searched in Oregon, California and Washington,” Wolcott said. “We narrowed it down to Buck and eight other dogs but he outperformed them in every way.”

Based in Springfield, the team can end up being called to anywhere in the state and rarely say no to a task, unless Wolcott feels it’s not in the best interest of his priceless partner.

“We once got called in on a stabbing and they suspected the knife had been thrown in a really thick field of blackberries,” he said. “I said to the guy, ‘You know how you don’t want to go into that? Well my dog doesn’t either.’”

Because of the complexity of the work, the team continues training up to six hours a week, but Wolcott got a glimpse of how well Buck’s memory works when he picked up coffee at a drive-through Starbucks window.

“When we were still pretty new to working together I decided to treat him to a ‘Puppuccino’ and I always regretted it,” Wolcott said. “I still can’t pull into a drive-through without him freaking out.”

When he first met the dog that was to become his new partner, Wolcott said he already had been given the name Buck.

“I thought it was perfect — one of the things we were going to train for had bucks in the job description,” he said. “But when I told my supervisor that, he said, ‘Why don’t you try calling him loudly a few times?’ And that’s when I found out that when you yell ‘Buck’ really loud, especially when you're irritated, it doesn’t sound like you are saying ‘Buck’. But I liked it and it seemed to suit him, so I kept it anyway.”

A recent presentation at Newport’s Pacific Maritime Heritage Center ended with a demonstration of Buck’s skills — Wolcott having hid two scented objects around the room prior to his talk. Buck found both, the second one being in the presumably richly scented (to a dog’s nose) trash can. His butt landed on the ground with a satisfying “plop” when he knew he had found the stink he’d been sent to find. Wolcott rewarded him with a “toy” that gave Buck all the wiggles. For a team that does such serious and important work, those two sure do have fun together.

“Everything to him is a game,” Wolcott said. “He gets to do so many cool things. I don’t know if he knows how lucky he is, but I do.”

Buck’s retirement age will probably come at about 10 years, Wolcott said, but he may retire him earlier, knowing that working him too far past his peak years wouldn’t be fair to him. 

“When he’s done he’ll stay with us,” Wolcott said, his hand, as it did for most of the talk, gently stroking Buck’s head. 

And then he said the most Captain Obvious thing of the day.

“There’s kind of a bond there.”

To report suspected poaching, email tip@osp.oregon.gov or call 800-452-7888. For more information, go to oregon.gov/osp.