K9 Keeps Barking at Hay Bales… Officer Turns Pale When He Cuts One Open

Ryan flashed his tactical light down into the narrow, custom-built vault. Inside lay three heavy-duty metal transport crates. Tightly curled on blanketed floors were three young chimpanzees. They weren't moving. Their eyes were closed, their breathing abnormally slow and shallow. A faint, sweet chemical smell—sedatives—hung thick in the enclosed air.

"They're alive, but they're out cold," Ryan said, his chest tight as he checked the pulse on the smallest primate's wrist. "Call specialized vet transport right now!" Duke reached his head over the wooden rim. He didn't bark. 

Gently, the dog leaned down and nudged the soft fur of the lead chimp's arm, letting out a low, soft whine of concern. Down in the gravel, Carl sat in the back of the squad car, staring straight ahead as the sirens of wildlife officers and veterinary units echoed in the distance.