The Painted Dogs of Africa

Sarah Bonnar, UC Davis

Experiences, Honorable Mention

SAVMA's IVEC Individual Scholarship Winner

Painted Dog Research Website

      The painted dogs of Africa are strange and fascinating animals. Classified as Lycaon pictus, they are the only surviving members of the Lycaon genus; their behavior, biology, and physiology is unique among extant canid species. I’ve been captivated by the struggle of this beautiful and reclusive endangered species since I was a child, and this summer—with help from SAVMA’s IVEC Individual Scholarship, and the U.C. Davis ICC Travel Grant, without which this trip would not have been possible—I had the opportunity to spend a month working for the Painted dog Research Trust in Zimbabwe. My internship was hosted and guided by Dr. Gregory Rasmussen, the founder of the longest-running research project on Painted dogs in Zimbabwe.

As a PDRT Research Intern, I was responsible for aiding in tracking, pack monitoring, fecal sampling, and darting operations. One of the most exciting parts of the trip was when I had the opportunity to aid in the location of an entirely new pack of Painted dogs in the Fuller Forest area of Zimbabwe; this type of wildlife work was entirely new to me, and the opportunity to contribute to such an important and delicate operation was amazing, both in how it contributed to my professional education and goals, and in the personal impact working hands-on with the dogs had upon me.

We spent several days tracking the dogs back to their den. Following a tip from a local forest service tracker, patiently and slowly traversed the bumpy roads deep into the Fuller Forest area, scouring the dust for spoor. I had the chance to learn from the highly skilled PDRT staff and trackers; MK, Dr. Rasmussen’s right-hand man, showed me how to distinguish prints of hyena, lion, jackal, and painted dog. He taught me the difference between a running print and a walking, based on how the toes cup into the dust and the depth of the print; how to distinguish forepaw from hind; and how to use tricks like sweeping the road and searching for overlaying tracks to follow the dogs back to their den. As we searched, Dr. Rasmussen and his graduate student, Tendai, spoke with me about the behavior of the dogs, the nature of their work, and the wealth of ecological and behavioral information necessary to their studies. We took fecal samples along the way to analyze for stress and reproductive hormones, DNA, and parasites, preparing and preserving them with different methods based on the age and viability of the sample.

Dr. Rasmussen taught me about how vital knowledge of the dogs’ behavior is to their conservation and study. Knowing that they leave the den at one pace, and return at another, helped us understand which prints lead to and which lead from the den. Knowing what time of day they leave to hunt, when they return to the pups, and what level of disturbance around the den site might cause them to move to a new location was vital in setting camera traps and monitoring their activity. Understanding their migration patterns, and the drives behind the dispersal of young pack members, is essential to the long-term management of different populations.

Upon locating the den, we set out to perform a nighttime capture operation of one of the pack members in order to place a radio collar, draw samples, and establish what the research group called a ‘handle’ on the pack. This is a vital part of PDRT’s work because a radio collar provides a reliable method of locating the pack in the future to take samples, monitor pack migration and activity, and protect the animals. Painted dogs are reclusive, far-ranging, and clever; they den in dense brush (showing a preference to heavy cover such as Zambezi Teak), and even after localizing them to an area of several kilometers, actually finding the animals themselves can be nearly impossible without GPS or radio tracking technology.

The capture itself was exhilarating, in no small part because of the effort put into reducing the stress on the patient. Free darting painted dogs from a distance is risky and extremely stressful to the animals; even if the specialist manages to tranquilize a dog from a distance (which is highly unlikely, given their speed, use of dense cover for den sites, and wariness of humans), the team must then pursue the frightened animal through the bush until the tranquilizer takes effect. This results in extreme stress to the patient, potential hyperthermia, and runs the risk of loosing track of the animal—which would them be helpless in the middle of the African bush, which is densely populated by other predator species. As such, PDRT uses a snare and hand-capture technique, which is believed to be safer and less stressful to the dog.

We first set out safety snares around the den; flexible metal cables with carefully placed ‘stoppers’ to prevent constriction, and a thick diameter to prevent abrasion.  We then retreated to the Land Rover parked nearby, bundling up against the chill air, waiting and listening in silence. As the hours slid by, the sounds of other animals—lions roaring in the distance, the calling of a distressed buffalo coming uncomfortably close—penetrated the night. Then, around 3AM that morning, we heard the sound of a struggle in the bush.

We vaulted out of the car and into the dark, following the sound of a distressed dog calling her packmates. Within moments the sweeping beam of a headlamp caught on a coat like a patchwork quilt; there was a large female, lashed to a solid tree where we had set one of the safety snares. Her lanky legs were braced as she pulled against the snare, her oddly wide ears flat and her teeth bared. Dr. Rasmussen had explained in advance that the speed at which we covered her head an administered the tranquilizer was essential to reducing stress; the sooner we caught her, the faster the sedative and amnesic effects of the drug would kick in. MK and I were armed with heavy gloves and blankets. He moved in first, crouching to follow her as she darted back and forth to avoid his approach, waiting until the right moment before tossing the blanket over her and leaping onto her back to hold her down. I followed him in and used the second blanket to capture her head, covering her eyes and ears to reduce her exposure to the bright lights and the trauma of our approach. Once she was restrained and Dr. Rasmussen had administered the tranquilizer, we held her down until the anesthesia took effect.

Once she calmed, we quickly transferred the limp form onto a heavy blanket and moved her back to our staging area. We’d laid out the necessary gear—thermometer, radio collar, venipuncture supplies, extra blankets, a flapper, and Dr. Rasmussen’s medical kit—in advance. The first and most important task was to insert the thermometer and check vital signs; as she was stable and within a safe body temperature range, we quickly set about drawing blood, administering the pre-determined subcutaneous injections, and setting the radio collar in place.

Due to the necessity of keeping the dosage as low as possible to minimize potential complications, the painted dog was only under shallow anesthesia during the operation, and she woke up shortly after we had completed the necessary procedures. As she roused, lifting her head and struggling to place her feet beneath her, we quickly retreated to the land rover and turned off the lights. Despite the temptation to remain near and monitor her condition, the best thing we could do was remove ourselves—and thus the greatest source of potential stress—from her sight. We listened closely as she recovered, pulling herself deeper into the dense bush and crying out for her packmates. We waited until she was back on her feet and safely under cover, with the rest of the pack responding to her dazed calls, before starting the engine and leaving as quietly as we could.

Upon collaring a painted dog, PDRT names both the individual and the pack for their records. We chose to name the female Nomandla—which is Ndbele for ‘mother of strength’—and the pack is now the Umguazo pack, which means goal.

       This internship was an extraordinarily valuable experience, both personally and professionally. I saw how conservation groups function internationally, how cooperation and contribution from people who live and work in wildlife areas is vital to successful conservation work, and how anesthesia and capture operations are handled in the field. In addition to the technical side of the work, I had the chance to see how Dr. Rasmussen and his team worked together with other conservation groups to share information, supplies, and staff, and how important those relationships are for successful conservation work. I was exposed to a wide variety of issues related to wildlife research and conservation, and I’m deeply interested in topics such as the reduction of stress during capture operations, maintenance of aseptic technique in the field, and the integration of knowledge about species-specific behavior into the management and study of wildlife. The contacts I made, the experience I gained, and perhaps most importantly—the chance to work with the painted dogs—has refined my goals as to what kind of veterinarian I want to be, and what I need to do to get there.

I owe deep thanks and appreciation to both SAVMA’S IVEC scholarship and the members of the ICC Travel Grant committee for their support.