Chapter 105: Choosing the Dog

These ten Shiba Inu puppies were all quite well-built—lively, energetic, and full of spirit. Though somewhat dirty, this was simply due to a lack of grooming and their living environment.

Zhang Congwen first asked Director Ding to bring a bowl of dog food and placed it on the ground. The puppies pounced on the food like starving tigers, devouring it eagerly.

While the little Shibas were engrossed in their meal, Zhang Congwen took a prepared water bottle from his bag and shook it vigorously. The bottle contained no water, only stones that rattled loudly inside.

He deliberately held the bottle above the puppies’ heads, creating noise to observe their reaction. Song Jiawei, curious, asked, "What’s the meaning of shaking the bottle over their heads like that?"

Zhang Congwen explained, "This is mainly to test their resistance to distractions. Some dogs get scared by this kind of noise and stop eating. Those sensitive to noise generally have weaker nerves."

“Looks like these Shibas are quite good,” Zhu Qingyan remarked, watching the puppies focus intently on their food.

Despite the noise, the ten little Shibas ignored Zhang Congwen completely, not even bothering to glance up at him.

Director Ding wore a proud expression. "So, does this mean my puppies have passed the first test?"

Zhang Congwen nodded. "Yes, they’re all doing well. When they’re eating, they don’t hear or respond to anything—that’s the first step, sound desensitization, passed."

Satisfied with their noise tolerance, Zhang Congwen then gestured to Song Jiawei and Zhu Qingyan to touch each of the greedy puppies, handling each one in turn.

Director Ding looked puzzled. "What’s the point of touching them? To see if their attention is focused?"

Zhang Congwen absentmindedly petted a pup as he replied, "Something like that. It’s mainly to test how sensitive they are to touch. Sensitive dogs will stop eating as soon as they’re touched by a hand. Those dogs aren’t suitable as working dogs."

On this test, the ten Shibas performed admirably. No matter how Zhang Congwen and the others touched them, the puppies remained focused on their food, showing no interest in the people.

Seeing this, Zhang Congwen grabbed the tail of one puppy and gently pulled it backward, away from the food bowl. The pup showed no fear or anger at being pulled by the tail.

As soon as Zhang’s hand let go, the puppy immediately returned to the food bowl.

He then tested several other dogs in the same manner—pulling tails, dragging hind legs, or touching their rear halves. Without exception, all ten Shibas performed very well, showing great potential as working dogs.

However, Zhang Congwen’s tests were only the most basic criteria for becoming a working dog. Whether these pups could truly fulfill the role of assistance dogs was still uncertain.

Each type of working dog has its own specific requirements, which vary greatly. For example, an autism assistance dog needs moderate energy, friendliness, patience, adaptability to chaotic environments, and no aggression.

By contrast, a riot control dog requires a fierce and brave temperament, high obedience, and unwavering courage in dangerous situations.

A detection dog must have a keen sense of smell, intense focus, tremendous patience, and abundant energy.

A search and rescue dog needs emotional stability, agility, intelligence, high obedience, friendliness, alertness, low aggression, concentrated focus, and endurance.

In short, the conditions vary widely depending on the breed and job.

After completing these basic tests, Zhang Congwen stopped and began observing the personalities of the ten Shibas over time.

His long observation did not disappoint. In the end, he chose one.

When it came time to pay, Director Ding generously insisted on gifting the puppy. First, because when one of his Tibetan Mastiffs had previously bitten Zhang Congwen, he hadn’t provided additional compensation, so the cost of this dog was considered as compensation for that incident.

Second, after learning of Zhang’s intention to train a working dog, he wanted to contribute to Xiao Xiao’s cause. He also promised that if this dog failed to meet the final training standards and couldn’t become an assistance dog, Zhang could select any dog from his kennels at cost price.

“That’s too kind,” Song Jiawei said.

Director Ding shook his head firmly. "You’ve seen it yourselves—most of the dogs in my kennel are native breeds. When I was young, I had my own ideas too, just like you. I’ve always wanted our native dogs to be accepted by our people, to at least preserve some pure bloodlines. Now I can say I’ve achieved this step, but we’re still far from acceptance among our own people. That’s why I’m doing this—I want you to show our people that our native dogs are no less than foreign ones."

Seeing this, no one declined the offer.

Everyone has their own aspirations—Zhang Congwen, Director Ding, Song Jiawei, and Zhu Qingyan alike.

On the way back, Zhang Congwen cradled the gifted Shiba puppy, his mind racing with thoughts on the upcoming training.

Though he was familiar with the training process for autism assistance dogs, this was his first time training one, so he needed to carefully consider the details.

For instance, what commands should he use? English or Chinese?

Many believe that using English to train dogs is a sign of kowtowing to foreign customs—that as descendants of the Dragon, one should use Chinese.

But these people oversimplify the matter. It’s not a question of allegiance, but of training technique.

Every language has its unique qualities and advantages.

For example, when naming species, regardless of the namer’s nationality, Latin is always used. Even if the namer is Chinese, Latin remains the choice.

This isn’t due to foreign worship but because Latin’s characteristics better suit species naming.

Latin is a dead language—no longer spoken daily, nor subject to change—so its meanings remain fixed and unaltered.

Such permanence does not exist in other languages. Take the Chinese word “tongzhi” (comrade), which in ancient times meant like-minded companions, evolved in modern times to mean those striving for a common ideal, and now is often used as a general form of address or denotes a specific group.

Countless examples like this exist in Chinese. Because it is still a living language, its meanings evolve with society, making it unsuitable for fixed naming conventions.

In contrast, Latin’s status as a dead language makes it ideal for consistent species names.

The same principle applies to dog training.

Compared to English, Chinese also has clear shortcomings, which is why English is widely used in dog training.

Zhang Congwen’s hesitation between English and Chinese commands stemmed from the fact that, despite English’s widespread use, it also posed considerable drawbacks for Chinese trainers.