A Hero Retires

photo by Rene B. Lumawag
(published Saturday, October 18th, in the Mindanao Times)

The untrained eye would need years of training to know the difference between a flat iron and an improvised explosive device. The trained eye would need time and still be unsure: think, for a second, about a tightly-sealed container, uncertainties and possible booby-traps.

Spike, Davao City's pioneer bomb-sniffer, would just need to go near a suspicious device and find out if the situation was a 'positive,' meaning that a bomb was in the said container.

Where humans rely on technical expertise, Spike would rely on one thing we don't have, together with a focused training on the field: a heightened sense of smell.

And this was what happened eight years ago, when Spike found a bomb inside an LCI bus. According to his handler, this is how it is done: a tandem of personnel from the Explosives and Ordnance Division is sent with a dog like Spike, trained to immediately crouch upon detecting explosives.

“Kuyaw kaayo to na bomba,” recalled SPO1 Fidel del Rio, “Del” to his team-mates. “Ang gisudlan ato kay karton sa plantsa, unya ang explosive kay ang plantsa mismo (The bomb was disguised as a flat-iron, placed inside a box, the iron being hte explosive itself.)” The improvised explosive, he said, would have injured a lot of passengers with its cast iron shrapnel, killing some of them instantly had Spike not detected it.

Spike has spent what to humans would be 91 years, at 13 years old, counting 7 human years to one dog year. Most of these years were spent serving the city. Spike retired this week after 12 years of service.

“Kumpleto ang talent ni Spike!” del Rio shared. “Pero ang specialty niya: bomb-sniffing (Spike has a lot of talents. His specialty is bomb sniffing.)” The Belgian malinois has protected the city from explosives countless times.

On March 11, 2003, around 9:00 pm, Spike found an explosive inside a passenger multicab. At a checkpoint in Magallanes Street, Spike sat after sniffing through a plastic container inside the jeep. The vehicle's driver, Temoteo Hedanio, would later report to investigators that five suspicious-looking men may have brought the container with them when they flagged the vehicle at the Matina intersection. The men disappeared into unknown directions when checkpoint personnel approached the vehicle.

Police later said that although an igniter pressurized the device to explode, it could not go off since it had no battery. Spike saved the city from a would-be terrorist activity.

Spike has had his share of the city's yearly celebrations and special events – always on patrol during the Araw ng Dabaw and Kadayawan Festivals, as well as visits from national officials.

When we visited Spike at the Davao Central Police Office, his comrades greeted us with barks that boomed within the kennel's walls. Huge dogs, I thought. Two cells from Spike's, a suspicious Snappy, a German shepherd who does drug-detection, kept barking as photographer Rene Lumawag leaned close to the bars to take Spike's photo inside his 'room.'

The malinois would find it hard, however, to begin sitting down or standing up. I could see how difficult it was for him to shift between these stances: it would always be a struggle, his 13 year old bones barely able to support his own weight with those transitions, a heartbreaking sight for the dog-lover in me.

By the base of Spike's right hind legs was also a small cyst that's been growing over the years. Del said there was nothing they could do about it anymore. The trainers at the SATU keep him happy, though.

“Kung 'negative' gani ang search,” Del shared, referring to search operations where Spike would find no explosives on the site, “i-recalibrate dayon nako na siya.” Del Rio said that dogs have attitudes too. “Pasimhuton nako siya ug kanang dapat pangitaon basta naay search, para maganahan siya, (If the search is a 'negative,' I'd have him sniff on an item he is supposed to search to keep him satisfied,)” he said, referring to parts of explosives that canines are trained to detect. Del would then give him a treat after each detection, either a piece of meat or a chew toy.

During idle times, Del would ask Spike to bring him stuff from from another table. The dog would just look where his handler would point, fetch the object with his mouth, and place it gently in front of where Del sat.

Spike loved his work, it would seem. Who wouldn't? The pay was good: shelter, food, and fun in one. His work was easy: all he had to do was sniff where told, exercise and rest in between. And the people around him were adventurers: Del being only one of three handlers who worked with him at the SATU. There is health care, too: the City Veterinarian's office monitors him.

The kind of care given to this aging hero of a dog befitted him. His handlers would take him to walks at dawn and late afternoons, to protect him from the heat of the sun. Del prefers dawn for 'Spike time,' making sure humans, few to none, are around to distract him.

I imagine Spike walking around the City Police Office during each 'Spike time' – his adventurous self sniffing the ground with his doggy instincts.

I think it is indeed about time that Spike receives his R&R (rest and recreation.) It is a salute that this hero deserves from the city, one he spent his lifetime protecting.