March 2012
Our Nation's Heroic Canines
by Karen Boehler
Almost everyone has seen a television report or read a newspaper story about dogs that work for or with law enforcement agencies. They search for missing hikers or skiers; find disaster victims buried in the rubble after an earthquake or tornado; sniff out contraband at border check stations; and hunt for bodies and bombs in war-torn regions.
They're clearly hero dogs, and deserve all the accolades they're given.
But while such dogs are honored—the Hallmark Channel broadcasted the American Humane Association's Hero Dog Awards last November—unlike their human counterparts, for the most part they have no health benefits or retirement plans.
"People assume, just like I did, these dogs are taken care of," says Diane Whetsel of Roswell. "That whatever they need, the departments will take care of them. And what we've learned, is that simply is not the case."
Whetsel herself learned that the hard way. She began working with dogs in obedience training many years ago in Florida. From there, she became interested in scent work and that led to tracking dogs, and search and rescue.
Over the years, she's worked with three different dogs; her latest, Sage, was honored as the 2011 National Search and Rescue Dog. And Sage is what prompted Whetsel to realize these dogs are not always cared for in their later years.
Sage, a Border Collie adopted by Whetsel from the United Kingdom, helped search for survivors and casualties at the Pentagon on 9/11. Sage's first find was the body of the terrorist who flew the plane into the building.
For the next few years, Sage worked with various law enforcement agencies looking for missing persons and as a forensic K-9 dog in homicide investigations. In 2005, she was sent to Mississippi to provide search and rescue for hurricanes Katrina and Rita. She went to Aruba to search dump sites for the body of Natalie Holloway.
Whetsel and Sage also served in Fallujah, Iraq, for six months in 2007, searching for missing soldiers who may have been killed by insurgents. But after coming back from the war, Sage was given an annual medical exam including an X-ray and blood test, through a program sponsored by the American Kennel Club at the University of Pennsylvania veterinary school for all 9/11 dogs.
This time, the X-ray came back abnormal, and Whetsel took Sage to Colorado State University, where additional tests diagnosed her with two different types of cancer, both in the lungs.
After surgery, Sage was given a clean bill of health, but the cancer recurred twice more. Because the cancers Sage developed account for a mere three percent of all canine cancers—meaning they're very rare—they were assumed to be job related.
"While people are wearing respirators, dogs have their nose right down in (hazardous materials)," Whetsel says. "Those are the unseen hazards of search and rescue."
For Whetsel, who works as a corrections officer at the Roswell Correctional Center, the bills began mounting up. Sage's surgeries and care added up to almost $10,000, a lot of money for a state employee. But through news reports, the community of Roswell, and people across the state and country donated to make sure Sage was cared for.
But Whetsel wondered what would have happened without that help.
"This was the catalyst that started The Sage Foundation For Dogs Who Serve," Whetsel says. "That (often it) would be cost-prohibitive to make sure the dogs get the correct care they need. I came to realize, Sage is not the only one."
Whether owned by individuals—as most search and rescue dogs are—or employees of a police department, military or federal agency, working dogs often get short shrift when they get old or ill.
"Lots of times, the costs of these dogs' medical bills run thousands of dollars," Whetsel says. "And these are our nation's hero dogs. We want to make sure they get what they need. Often times, a business office will say, 'That's just going to cost the department too much. Let's just retire or euthanize the dog.'"
"The bean counters don't have that emotional attachment or really appreciate what these dogs do for our cities; our counties; our communities; our country," says Whetsel.
So Whetsel, along with a four-member board of directors, started The Sage Foundation. "That's why we have The Sage Foundation For Dogs Who Serve," she says. "So we can make sure that bills get paid; that these dogs get the care that they need, whether they're injured in the line of duty or become ill or too old to work, that they have a retirement."
The foundation was created in 2009, and in April 2010 became an official 501c3 non-profit. Currently, it gives up to $1,000 to each dog in need, although that could change in the future. "Right now, we're trying to help as many dogs as we can, as best as we can with the funds we have," says Whetsel.
They gladly accept monetary contributions; veterinary services—free or discounted; adoption resources; and photography, printing and video services, but are currently looking for someone to help update their website.
One of the first dogs helped was Cisco, another of Whetsel's dogs. But unlike Sage, who Whetsel owned, Cisco worked for the New Mexico Corrections Department (NMCD) his entire life. The German Shepherd was imported from Germany to work in the areas of drug detection, tracking and fugitive apprehension work.
After five years with Whetsel—and another four before that with three other handlers—the New Mexico Corrections Department decided it was time Cisco retired. But giving—or even selling—him to Whetsel wasn't what the NMCD had in mind.
"I had to fight to get the dog, for one thing, which I shouldn't have had to do in the first place," she says. The state wanted to place Cisco up to bid because he was "property of the state" like a desk or typewriter, but after a long battle, the NMCD sold him to Whetsel for $1; and department regulations were changed to make sure in the future, handlers get first choice of keeping their dogs.
But Whetsel still had a problem. She couldn't keep Cisco with her in her small trailer on the correction center grounds.
"My task was to find someone to adopt him so he'd have a good retirement home," Whetsel says. "So I had to find someone who would give Cisco that wonderful home and accept that this dog was not going to be with him forever, and take on the burden of these bills."
After advertising and getting applications from four states, Cisco found a home in Las Cruces where he enjoys his retirement to this day.
Despite Sage's three cancers, Sage still participates in occasional local search and rescues, and is as frisky at 13 years young as she was as a puppy. She celebrated her birthday on January 8 in a room full of balloons, where she joyfully attacked one balloon after another until the room was completely free of the pesky, colored toys.
And that is something Whetsel wants everyone to understand: that despite retirement, with a little care these dogs can live a long life, living simply as dogs.
"I really want people to understand that these dogs are wonderful and heroic dogs," she says. "They patrol our streets. They walk alongside soldiers in foreign countries detecting explosive ordinances that could kill. They save a lot of lives. They keep drugs off our streets. They protect our prisons and they protect our communities. And these dogs deserve to have a retirement. They deserve to have medical care—the best medical care veterinary science can offer—and not be restricted by budgetary constraints."
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