Search-and-rescue (SAR) dogs are highly unique canines. For 30 years, the National Disaster Search Dog Foundation has looked for potential in a place many people overlook: the shelter system. They seek highly driven dogs: intense, persistent, curious animals often described as too energetic, too busy, or too much. Yet the traits that prevented success in one placement can make a dog extraordinary in the right one.
Disaster search is elite work, and not every dog they recruit will be suited to it. When a dog does not make that narrow grade, their responsibility shifts to finding a life where that dog can thrive. That experience motivates them to help more people see the magic in these dogs: the possibility hidden inside all that intensity, curiosity, and drive.
Here’s what Tracy Darling, Senior Director of Canine Operations at the National Disaster Search Dog Foundation, says about retired life for high-drive dogs.
Marc Bekoff: How did you get interested in this work, and what did you learn about shelter dogs that you did not expect?
Tracy Darling: I was first drawn to this work by images from the aftermath of September 11: dogs and handlers moving through rubble, accomplishing something no machine could. The work was heroic, but actually living with a high-drive dog changed my understanding of the story. I thought we were teaching dogs to do remarkable things. Instead, they were teaching us to live differently. They required clearer communication and greater presence.
The bigger surprise was where these dogs came from. Repeatedly, the dog with the most potential was one who had already been returned once or twice. Those dogs had not failed. They had been placed into lives that had little to offer them.
MB: Why do high-drive dogs get a bad rap? What are the most common misconceptions?
TD: The most common misconception is that drive is a behavior problem. It is not. Drive is a strong internal need to engage with the world: to move, play, explore, solve problems, and work toward something with a partner. Trouble begins when that drive has no direction. A dog with significant capacity and nothing meaningful to do will invent an outlet…then come the labels: hyper, destructive, reactive, stubborn, impossible.
Another misconception is that an intense dog cannot also be sensitive. Dogs who throw themselves wholeheartedly into life often bring that same commitment to relationships. The dog who notices every shift in the environment may also be finely tuned to the person holding the leash. Their intensity does not make them less connected. Often, it means they are taking in more, reacting more fully, and investing more deeply in the world around them.
MB: What kind of home does a dog like this thrive in? Are there personality patterns, or the same range seen in other dogs?
TD: Drive describes how strongly a dog wants to participate, not the dog’s entire personality. High-drive dogs may be outgoing or reserved, socially flexible or selective, bold or slower to settle into new situations. The right home is therefore less about a checklist than a rhythm. It includes the dog rather than managing life around the dog. There is room to move, something to learn, and a person who enjoys being part of the process.
That does not mean nonstop activity. Rest is a skill, too, and a thoughtful home has space for quiet after the dog’s needs have been met. What rarely works is asking the dog to become a background character. If the dog’s daily experience is watching life from the other side of a window, training alone will not solve the mismatch.
MB: What does training look like for a dog whose defining trait is that they want to work?
TD: For these dogs, development is less about formal training than about the opportunities daily life provides. A driven dog wants to learn, move, solve problems, and work with a partner. Those are not rewards offered after the real work. They are the work: a trail walk before the day begins, a game of fetch that becomes a shared ritual, a training session that challenges both partners.
When those opportunities are present, many behaviors become easier because the dog is no longer carrying so much unspent capacity. Our approach emphasizes shared joy, collaboration, and clear communication because high-drive dogs aren’t interested in complying with a list of rules. They are looking for meaningful engagement. The strongest partnerships are built when the dog wants to participate, not when the dog is simply managed into obedience.
MB: What happens to the dogs who do not make the grade for disaster search, and what have those placements taught you?
TD: They go on to active, well-matched lives, and we remain involved in their success. Some find purpose in detection work or dog sports where intensity is an asset. Many become exceptional companions for active people: hiking partners, running buddies, weekend co-pilots, and daily reminders to get outside, stay curious, and do more together.
Not making the grade for disaster search is not a judgment on the dog. It reflects an extremely specialized selection process. A dog can be exceptional and still not belong on a rubble pile. These placements remind us that fit is more powerful than perfection. The same dog who overwhelms one household may feel easy, joyful, and deeply rewarding in another. The dog did not change; the context did. In the right life, curiosity becomes adventure, persistence becomes determination, intensity becomes enthusiasm, and drive becomes connection.
MB: What would you say to someone considering a dog like this?
TD: The most useful question may not be, “Can I handle this dog?” but, “What might this dog open up in my life?” A high-drive dog may invite you outside earlier, take you farther, and draw you into new skills, new places, and new communities. They can turn an ordinary walk into a shared project, a training session into a conversation, and daily life into something more active, connected, and alive.
The relationship is not effortless, and that is part of its value. It is built through thousands of small moments: noticing, communicating, trying again, celebrating progress. These dogs ask you to participate. They ask for clarity, curiosity, and a willingness to build a life with them rather than simply make room for them. In return, they often expand the lives of the people who choose them. Some dogs fit comfortably into the life already there. Others invite that life to become bigger. The dogs who want more are everywhere, waiting for someone to see that what looks like too much may be exactly the beginning of something extraordinary.
