Every wildlife officer has to learn somewhere.
Every customs inspector has to know the difference between legal and illegal wildlife products.
Every investigator working a wildlife trafficking case has to recognize species from a feather, a skull, a claw, a hide, or even a pair of boots.
During my visit to the National Wildlife Property Repository in Commerce City, CO, Taliah Farnsworth, Supervisory Wildlife Repository Specialist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s Office of Law Enforcement, showed me two pairs of boots.
At first glance, they looked remarkably similar. Most people would simply see exotic leather. But they weren’t the same.
One pair was made from the skin of an arapaima, one of South America’s largest freshwater fish-a species allowed under strict permitting. The other was made from the scales of an endangered pangolin, the world’s most heavily trafficked mammal and that is strictly illegal.
Until she explained the differences, I couldn’t have confidently identified either one. Yet that ability to recognize protected species from what appears to be an ordinary product is exactly the kind of skill wildlife law enforcement officers develop via specialized training. Standing in an international airport or inspecting cargo arriving at a seaport, an officer who recognizes pangolin scales rather than assuming they’re simply another exotic leather product could uncover evidence of wildlife trafficking and help build a successful case that protects wildlife.
That simple demonstration perfectly illustrated the mission of the National Wildlife Property Repository. It isn’t simply a place where wildlife specimens are stored. It is a working facility in which training, education, and conservation intersect to help protect wildlife around the globe.
I’ve had a deep interest in wildlife trafficking for years as a wildlife journalist because it undermines science-based wildlife management causes major damage to populations of iconic species around the world.
Wildlife trafficking is driven by demand for pets, traditional medicines, luxury goods, decorations, trophies, and collectibles. It strips ecosystems of wildlife, undermines decades of conservation work, and, according to law enforcement agencies worldwide, often overlaps with broader organized criminal activity.
That’s why I wanted to visit the National Wildlife Property Repository.
I wanted to better understand how the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service trains the people responsible for identifying illegal wildlife products and supporting investigations that lead to successful wildlife trafficking cases. I also wanted to get a firsthand look at the scale of the material flowing through one of America’s least-known conservation facilities.
Even after years of reporting on wildlife conservation and trafficking, I wasn’t prepared for what I found.
The sheer diversity of wildlife represented inside the repository was staggering. Shelves held specimens from across North America and around the world. Looking at those items one by one transformed wildlife trafficking from something I’d written about for years into a “boots on the ground” reality.
At first glance, some people might wonder why the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service would maintain such an extensive collection of wildlife specimens and confiscated wildlife products. As I proceeded through the facility with Farnsworth, the answer became increasingly clear.
This wasn’t a warehouse filled with curiosities, nor was it a museum. Every shelf, every specimen, and every confiscated item had a purpose. The repository is dedicated to training, education, and supporting investigations that help combat wildlife trafficking.
Some specimens are used to train U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service special agents, wildlife inspectors, conservation officers, customs personnel, and prosecutors. Others support educational programs for scientists and conservation professionals.
The repository also works with wildlife detection canine programs by providing training specimens so dogs can learn to locate illegally traded wildlife products hidden in luggage, shipping containers, cargo, and mail parcels. Those dogs become an additional critical line of defense against wildlife traffickers, often detecting evidence that would otherwise pass unnoticed.
For a crime as specialized as wildlife trafficking, generic training simply isn’t enough. Investigators must recognize protected species from feathers, hides, bones, scales, claws, shells, carved ivory, reptile leather, and countless other wildlife products that can easily be overlooked by an untrained eye. That level of expertise doesn’t happen by accident. It happens through places like this.
One thing that impressed me was the sheer diversity of the repository’s contents. While many people associate wildlife trafficking with elephants, rhinos, or tigers, the collection also includes evidence from poaching cases and wildlife crimes much closer to home. North American wildlife is represented throughout the repository, serving as a reminder that illegal wildlife trade isn’t just an international issue. It affects the species we hunt, fish, photograph, and admire here in the United States as well.
As we walked through the collection, Farnsworth explained that wildlife trafficking isn’t driven by a single type of buyer. Some tourists unknowingly purchase illegal souvenirs while traveling overseas. She showed me elephant-hair bracelets, the kind of item someone might buy thinking it’s simply a unique keepsake from an African safari.
But consumers have a responsibility too. Buying wildlife products without understanding where they came from or whether they are legal can help fuel the very demand that drives poaching.
Then there are collectors willing to pay premium prices for rare wildlife products. At the highest levels are sophisticated criminal networks that profit from wildlife trafficking on a global scale. The local poacher who receives only a small payment is often just one link in a much larger chain. Law enforcement agencies have documented that wildlife trafficking can overlap with wider organized criminal networks involved in activities such as money laundering, corruption, and, in some cases, other forms of transnational crime.
It reinforced something I’ve believed for a long time. Every purchase has consequences. Reducing demand is just as important as catching the traffickers who supply it, and educating people is one of the most powerful conservation tools we have.
Several stories will come from this visit. My longtime interest in the international shark trade alone will become another feature. But something about this place affected me on a deeper level, and that’s why I wanted to tell this story first here at Higher Calling Wildlife.
One image has stayed with me more than any other. Along one shelf sat tiger rugs—far more than I ever expected to see in one place. Each represented a tiger that had previously walked the forests of Asia, an apex predator removed from where it belonged. Around 1900, an estimated 100,000 wild tigers roamed Asia. Today, after generations of habitat loss, poaching, and illegal trade, only a small fraction of that number remains in the wild.
Standing there, those rugs no longer looked like confiscated evidence. They represented the staggering cost of human demand.
Nearby were jaguar specimens. As someone who has long considered the jaguar my favorite animal, that struck especially hard. Farnsworth also showed me a coat made from the hides of five different jaguars. Looking at it, I couldn’t help but think about what had been lost. Five magnificent cats that belonged in the forests of Latin America had instead become a single garment. And this wasn’t scientifically managed harvest. It was poaching.
That moment reinforced why specialized training matters so much. The officers who investigate these crimes can’t afford to guess. They have to know exactly what they’re looking at. They have to recognize the difference between legally traded materials and protected species, understand the elaborate system of wildlife laws and permitting requirements, and identify evidence that supports successful wildlife trafficking cases.
Wildlife trade itself is far much more complex than many people realize. International agreements, federal regulations, permitting systems, and sustainably managed wildlife programs all play important roles in conservation. The mission of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service isn’t to eliminate all wildlife trade. It’s to help ensure that the wildlife trade is lawful and sustainable, and that it does not threaten the future of the species involved. I’ll be exploring those complexities in future articles because they’re an important part of understanding this issue.
Walking through the repository, however, made one thing unmistakably clear. Many of the specimens housed there represent situations where those principles were ignored. They are evidence of wildlife taken illegally, trafficked unlawfully, or possessed in violation of the laws designed to protect species for future generations.
What impressed me most wasn’t simply the size of the collection. It was the extraordinary attention to detail behind it. Every specimen, every confiscated item, and every training aid has been carefully preserved because someone recognized that it could help educate another investigator, train another wildlife inspector, or prepare another detection dog. Just as impressive as the collection itself was the professionalism and passion of the people entrusted with it. Throughout the visit, it was obvious that the repository’s mission isn’t simply to preserve evidence—it’s to ensure that those specimens continue to serve wildlife through education, training, and conservation.
I left the National Wildlife Property Repository with something I hadn’t expected: optimism.
Yes, the shelves hold evidence of poaching, trafficking, and exploitation. They tell difficult stories about humanity’s impact on wildlife. But they also tell a story of dedicated professionals who have refused to let those losses be meaningless.
Every one of these animals once played an important role in its ecosystem. Today, even in death, many continue to serve the cause of conservation by helping to train the people who protect the species still living in the wild.
Perhaps that’s the repository’s greatest lesson. It has found a way to transform some of wildlife’s greatest tragedies into opportunities to educate, inspire, and better prepare the people standing on the front lines of conservation.
In a world where it’s easy to become discouraged by wildlife crime, that’s a mission worth celebrating—and one that gives me hope for the future of wildlife.
Chester Moore
Learn More
The National Wildlife Property Repository is first and foremost a working U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service law enforcement and training facility. However, as part of its educational mission, the repository offers limited public educational opportunities, including scheduled visits and programs, when staffing and operational needs allow.
For conservationists, educators, students, and anyone interested in wildlife law enforcement, it gives a unique opportunity to better understand how training, education, and scientific expertise help combat wildlife trafficking and support wildlife conservation.
If you’re interested in learning more or inquiring about future educational opportunities, contact the National Wildlife Property Repository through the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s Office of Law Enforcement.
Because this is an active law enforcement and training facility, public access is limited, and educational opportunities are offered only as schedules and operational obligations permit.
Click here for more information.
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