Fri, September 19, 2003

Super-sleuth dog sniffs out moulds that make us sick

See Flip and Betty play. See Betty throw the ball. Run, Flip! Run! But Flip is not running.

Flip has found some toxic stachybotrys, hidden and growing under the floor boards of Betty's new home.

Run, Betty! Run!

Over the years, we've grown used to highly trained canines sniffing out arson and bombs and drugs. Now there's a new super-sleuth canine with a wet nose.

The Mould Dog.

Quincy, a two-year-old yellow lab, was dropped off at a Florida humane society shelter more than a year ago. The pup was unwanted and disposable.

Today, she's become Canada's first mould-detecting pooch -- a $20,000 panting marvel of genetics and training, which can pinpoint toxic moulds in schools, businesses and private homes.

"She's like any other dog -- she just has a very unusual day job," says Quincy's handler, Frank Haverkate, who runs Haverkate and Associates Inc., a Toronto indoor, environmental testing firm.

As her master talks, Quincy sprawls out on a hardwood floor at my feet. Occasionally, she sniffs the air -- as if my shoes might contain a health threat.

Quincy is to mould what Lassie was to kids who would fall down wells in the '60s.

A decade ago, the only mould any of us took seriously was forming on bread we grabbed to make toast.

SICK AT HOME

In recent years, the hidden fungi has had the power to close an entire criminal court in Newmarket, as well as cause a crisis in school portables in the province.

Mould is also big business, as homeowners and office managers try to find out why those under their roof have become sick of staying indoors.

It's not anthrax North American offices are testing for right now -- it's Sick Building Syndrome.

An estimated 40 million people in Canada and the U.S. annually suffer from asthma, headaches, fatigue, depression, rashes and chronic flu-like symptoms, after spending their days sucking up moulds, pollutants and poisons coughed up by the walls around them. To traditionally help track down the hiding biological vermin, Haverkate would largely count on a $30,000 air-testing kit -- precise and complicated tools which sit in a nearby case.

The devices are accurate, but can't specifically point out exact spots -- hidden behind walls or under floors or even in ceilings -- where mould has moved in. That's what Quincy does -- for a pat and a dog treat.

HIDE-AND-SEEK

"She's used to find hidden issues," says Haverkate, as he leans down to Quincy, who started her work earlier this month after being saved from the humane society, and trained at the Florida Canine Academy.

The facility has traditionally trained drug and arson dogs for American agencies.

"To us, it's a health concern. To her, it's a game of hide-and-seek," says Haverkate.

"And she's happiest when she's playing."

For homeowners, it's no game. In fact, none of Haverkate's residential clients wanted in tow when Quincy and Haverkate were making their rounds. So, instead, Quincy plays K9 P.I. in his master's own home, a 1960s Toronto bungalow.

From a sniff of a single drop of urine, the average dog can identify another canine's sex, health, diet, emotional state and even if it's dominant or submissive.

Researchers believe they sense smells as three dimensional odour models -- an image that's better than a photograph for a human.

So Quincy -- after more than 1,000 hours of training -- has little trouble tracking down, and sitting, when she comes to two different suspect locations in Haverkate's own home. One is in the kitchen, near a place where a pipe once burst. The other is on the other side of a garage, that may have had some moisture problems.

A trained arson dog can track a single drop of gasoline in the equivalent of a swimming pool of water. In all, Quincy can doggedly track down 18 species of toxic moulds.

Back in our early readers, Betty could only have wished Flip was that smart.