Training Teaches Precision. Operations Demand Interpretation.

Not Every Find Looks Like Training: Understanding the Realities of Operational Indications

This week, Griff carried out a search for HM Revenue & Customs. He’s a tobacco and vape detection dog. Our task was to search a shop and the associated back rooms — including a cluttered rear storeroom.

It was in that rear storeroom where things got interesting.

Griff began to show clear changes of behaviour (COB). He started pacing, airing up (lifting his nose to catch scent in higher air currents), and even tried to climb a wall. These subtle shifts in behaviour instantly stood out to me. Once I pointed them out, the Customs officers began to notice them too.

But here’s what didn’t happen: there was no trained final response (TFR). No textbook sit. No stare. No freeze.

And that’s exactly the point I want to make in this blog.

Training Teaches Precision. Operations Demand Interpretation.

In structured training, Griff gives the kind of indications that people love to see. The “social media sit.” The intense stare. The final response we all teach for consistency and clarity.

But in real operations, it’s rarely that straightforward.

We don’t get scent wheels or focus walls. We get cluttered shops, storage areas with restricted airflow, packaging that hides scent behind foil, plastic and insulation. We deal with contamination, residual odour, inaccessible hides, or odour layered among multiple competing scents.

And in those moments, it’s not the trained response that matters most — it’s the change of behaviour. It’s the dog telling you, in their own way, “There’s something here.”

Know Your Dog, Trust the COB

One thing I emphasise in handler development is this:

“When my dog shows a change of behaviour and they can’t work it out — and I can’t work it out — we sometimes leave the area, search elsewhere, and then return for a fresh attempt.”

That’s not a failure. That’s smart handling.
Sometimes the dog just needs a reset. A second attempt. A new angle.

Knowing when to give them that opportunity is part of interpreting behaviour, not just demanding performance.

When a TFR Won’t Happen — and That’s Okay

There are plenty of reasons a dog might not deliver a final response in real-world searches:

• The odour is inaccessible

• It's high up or buried deep

• The dog is in odour but can’t physically get to the source

• The conditions are tough, and the dog is working at threshold

The important thing is: they’re showing you what they know — just not always how you expect it.

In Griff’s case, his body language was crystal clear. He was working hard in that rear storeroom, alerting me through movement, posture, and effort that there was something worth paying attention to. And sure enough, there was.

When the Dog Can’t Reach the Source

So, we train dogs to give a clean, controlled final response — the kind that looks good on social media. But what we don’t often train for is this:

What does the dog do when it knows the target odour is there… but it can’t physically get to it?

That’s a gap in many training programmes.

In real life, when the source is hidden behind walls, sealed in packaging, or placed somewhere inaccessible, the dog has to adapt. And that’s exactly what Griff does. When he’s confident the odour is there but can’t reach the source, he naturally reverts to a behaviour that communicates urgency — for him, that’s barking and repeatedly looking at the area in question.

He’s not being disobedient. He’s solving a problem.
And he’s trying to tell me something I need to hear.

The problem? Some observers see that and immediately assume I’ve trained an “old-fashioned” proactive response — I haven’t.
Griff hasn’t been trained to bark at odour. He’s using his initiative when the standard response doesn’t apply. It’s a behaviour born from confidence, frustration, and commitment — and it’s exactly what I want from an operational dog.

Because in the field, the dog’s job is to find.
My job is to understand what that looks like when the rulebook doesn’t fit.

The Environment Changes Everything

What’s often missing from the wider conversation is how drastically different operational searches are from training environments.

On this particular job, Griff and I were working in a cramped, cluttered storeroom — poorly lit, full of hazards, and completely unstructured. There were sharps on the floor, loose shelving, broken packaging, and uneven flooring. We were using torches just to see what we were dealing with. Add to that the presence of multiple police and customs officers, creating noise, pressure, and limited space to work.

It’s a world away from a scent wheel, a controlled search lane, or an empty room in a training hall.

And yet dogs like Griff are still expected to perform flawlessly.

This is why understanding change of behaviour is so important. In these environments, the trained final response is often not practical, safe, or possible. But the dog’s effort to communicate — even if it doesn’t look “tidy” — is still valid. Still valuable. And still correct.

A Word on Training: Don’t Train for Instagram

I see a lot of training content online that prioritises the perfect final response. Focus walls, backchaining, reward timing — all good tools, but sometimes misunderstood. We risk creating dogs (and handlers) who are trained to perform, not to think.

"Do I know my dog well enough to spot when something has changed?"
That’s the real test. That’s operational readiness.

Because the world won’t give you perfect hides. It will give you puzzles.
And your dog’s change of behaviour — not their performance — is your best clue.

Final Thoughts

The reality is this: dogs don’t read manuals, and real-life hides don’t follow training plans. As handlers, our job is to interpret, not just expect. Precision matters — but only when it serves the purpose of detection. That means knowing your dog, trusting their change of behaviour, and being flexible enough to adapt in the moment.

If you're training detection dogs — or supervising those who do — it's time to ask:

Are you building performers, or problem-solvers?

Because in this work, it’s not the textbook sit that finds the contraband.
It’s the dog that won't stop searching the spot you overlooked.