Chapter One Hundred and Six: Three Advanced Skills

From a dog training perspective, using English for training commands has distinct advantages. The primary benefit lies in the short, punchy nature of English words, which are easier for dogs to memorize and less prone to confusion. In contrast, Chinese is relatively complex, with a surplus of syllables.

In a Chinese-speaking environment, if a dog is placed in a noisy setting—especially as an assistance dog—passersby might inadvertently issue commands out of curiosity. The assistance dog might struggle to distinguish these from their owner's instructions, leading to misinterpretation and potentially causing accidents.

However, the drawbacks of using English within a Chinese-speaking context are equally apparent. These disadvantages do not stem from the dog, but from the humans involved. As an assistance dog for a child with autism, it is not just the dog that requires training, but the handler as well. For someone like Grandma Xiaoxiao, mastering all the English commands would be necessary, yet this undeniably increases the difficulty of matching the dog with its human partner.

After much deliberation, Zhang Congwen decided to proceed with Chinese for the training. Grandma Xiaoxiao is advanced in years and has a limited capacity for adopting new things, let alone mastering a foreign language for her grandchild’s assistance dog. Moreover, should Xiaoxiao’s condition improve in the future, it would be much easier for the child to issue commands to the dog in Chinese.

"Zhang Congwen, what do you think we should name this little Xiasi dog?" Song Jiawei interrupted Zhang’s thoughts at the canine training base.

The three of them huddled together, looking at the newly arrived Xiasi dog with great affection.

"How about Huaming?" Zhu Qingyan suggested. "‘After endless mountains and rivers that leave doubt whether there is a path out, a village appears amidst the shade of willows and bright flowers.’ This name also carries a sense of hope."

Song Jiawei shook his head, deeming it unsuitable. "The name is nice, but it sounds a bit like a name for a female dog. This Xiasi is a male, so it doesn't quite fit. Let's be direct—let's call him Hope."

Zhu Qingyan looked unimpressed. "That’s straightforward, but it doesn't sound like a dog's name. How about Yunkai? ‘Do not say the floating clouds will forever hide the sun; there will always come a time when the clouds part and the fog clears.’"

"That's good," Song Jiawei said. "It sounds pleasant and poetic. You’ve given me an idea, too; I think 'Liaoyuan' (Prairie Fire) is quite fitting. I’ve seen what Xiasi dogs look like when they grow up—they get quite shaggy. So, the phrase 'a single spark can start a prairie fire' seems even more appropriate."

"The meaning is fine, but taking the words 'Liaoyuan' out on their own feels a bit too chuunibyou," Zhu Qingyan remarked.

Song Jiawei agreed with a laugh. "We'll keep it as a backup. Let's think of others."

The two racked their brains, trying to come up with a name. For some reason, they fell into a strange trap, constantly searching for inspiration in classical poetry.

"How about Xinlei (New Thunder)? It's imposing and suits a male dog. ‘Ten thousand flowers and red blooms are arranged, waiting only for the first sound of the new thunder.’"

"A bit too sharp—no, not good. How about Xueya (Snow Bud)?" Song Jiawei pulled out his phone. "‘The lingering snow presses on the branches, yet the tangerine remains; the frozen thunder startles the bamboo shoots into sprouting.’"

"Xueya is quite good. It matches his white coat perfectly," Zhu Qingyan commented. "Shall we go with that?"

Song Jiawei still wasn't satisfied. "Should we keep looking?"

The two kept tossing poetic verses back and forth. Anyone passing by would have thought they were attending a poetry appreciation seminar rather than naming a dog. Sometimes, when options are scarce, it’s easy to pick what you want. But once the options multiply, people become greedy, always hunting for something better. In the end, they found themselves lost in a sea of choices, with nothing to show for it.

After deliberating for a long time, they still hadn't reached a decision, having merely exhausted their entire repertoire of memorized poetry. It must be said that Song Jiawei’s literary knowledge lagged significantly behind Zhu Qingyan’s; eventually, it was Zhu doing all the thinking while Song provided the commentary.

Helpless, they finally deferred the decision to Zhang Congwen.

"Congwen, out of all the names we came up with, which one do you like best?" Song Jiawei asked.

"…Actually, I had a name in mind a long time ago." Seeing how enthusiastic they were, Zhang Congwen didn't want to dampen their spirits.

"Damn! You should have said so earlier! You let us rack our brains for nothing—we've practically spilled every drop of ink in our guts," Song Jiawei complained indignantly.

Zhang Congwen felt wronged. "You never asked."

Song Jiawei gave him the middle finger.

Zhu Qingyan asked, "What name did you choose?"

Zhang Congwen thought for a moment. "It’s not as poetic as yours. Let’s just call him Dasheng (Great Sage)."

"Damn, damn, damn!" Song Jiawei cried out. "I thought you had a great name, but it's such a plain one. It's not even as good as the ones we came up with!"

This time, Zhu Qingyan disagreed with Song Jiawei. "I think the name is perfect. Xiaoxiao loves 'Journey to the West' and Sun Wukong, so 'Dasheng' is very appropriate. Besides, 'Journey to the West' itself embodies a spirit of rebellion, which is very fitting for Xiaoxiao's current situation."

Although Zhu Qingyan said this, Song Jiawei was still reluctant to give the puppy such a name. However, since the majority ruled, he had no choice but to agree.

And so, the little Xiasi dog’s name was settled: Dasheng.

Zhu Qingyan happily picked Dasheng up, holding its two front paws and shaking them gently. "From now on, your name is Dasheng, do you hear?"

With the name decided, the next step was to begin training.

Training an autism assistance dog first requires mastering about thirty basic skills, including heeling, sitting, and staying. They must also master three advanced skills: anchoring, deep pressure therapy, and comforting.

Children with autism often exhibit sudden wandering behavior. To prevent them from getting lost, a leash is usually connected between the child's waist and the assistance dog. Once the dog senses an abnormal pull, it must immediately stop and plant itself, using its own body weight to prevent the child from running off.

The skills of comforting and deep pressure therapy are also critical. For instance, in deep pressure therapy, when a child with autism suffers an emotional breakdown, the assistance dog will "embrace" the child with its front limbs, using its body weight to contain the child and prevent them from harming themselves or others, until their emotions stabilize.

The purpose of comforting is self-explanatory—it is used to soothe the child's emotions. Once the child shows signs of distress, the dog must immediately walk over and place its head on the child's hand or lap, signaling for the child to pet it, thereby calming them down.

While these are the three core skills for an autism assistance dog, it was still too early for Dasheng to begin this advanced training. For now, Zhang Congwen only needed to focus on basic training while observing the dog's temperament.

Although Zhang had selected Dasheng as a candidate, it didn't guarantee he would become a certified assistance dog. Zhang needed long-term observation of his personality. For example, regarding aggression: for any reason, if Dasheng showed even the slightest hint of aggression, it would mean he was unsuitable for the role, and they would have to start over with a new dog.