Owning a Guide Dog: The Story of Chen Shujun
Chen Hui-yin / photos Jimmy Lin / tr. by Phil Newell
December 2009
It's five in the morning, and Dian leaps down from her bed into the arms of Chen Shujun, prepared to head off to a high school in Sanchong for a "Guide Dog Education and Information" event. When they board Bus 816, an elderly woman gets a panic-stricken look on her face: "What's a dog doing here?!" The driver calmly replies, "Don't worry, this is a guide dog, it's been trained and is really well-behaved and does whatever its owner tells it." The bus driver repeats this remark to every new passenger who gets on, and even thoughtfully stops the bus right at the school's front gate where Shujun and Dian get off. This small gesture of friendship makes Shujun happy for the whole day.

"It's great to have you here!" Guide dogs don't make a sound, but their thought are always on heir masters, and they don't miss a single gesture or posture. The two photos show guide dogs accompanying their masters onto a bus and into a restaurant.
He's a big one, isn't he?
Chen Shujun, who was born with poor vision, lost her sight completely at age four, and thereafter always had a white cane at her side. A cane can passively sense what is in front, and ensure a clearing of about 45 degrees to left and right, but it can't see heights, breadths, or obstacles that pop up suddenly.
Many were the times that Chen walked straight into a hanging sign, public telephone attached to a wall, or lowered truck bed of some vehicle parked by the roadside. She thus felt very insecure, leaving her to choose between taking long detours around high-risk routes or accepting cuts and bruises to the head and upper body. She could have just crept forward with little steps, but that would have wasted time and wouldn't have much reduced the danger.
In her second year in university, she was on a trip with a classmate who enjoyed normal eyesight, and on the bus to Shei Pa National Park she heard everyone talking emphatically about some dog, but she didn't hear any dog sounds at all. Her classmate poked her hands down between the seats and discovered that there was indeed a furry creature squeezed in there!
"Jeez, it's color is just like the carpet, and I had my foot on its tail the whole time, but it didn't move a muscle!" her classmate enthused. Out of curiosity, Chen also petted the dog, "He's a big one, isn't he?" Her family had had a pet dog, and she was under the impression that all dogs were small and demanding of attention, and she had no idea that dogs could be either that big or that "mature." It was only then that she finally began to get a clear idea of what a "guide dog"-something she had only heard rumors about-really was.
At that time there was no training of guide dogs in Taiwan, and blind persons had to go all the way to the US to undergo courses in how to use guide dogs, and then to be matched with a suitable dog. Chen originally planned to apply (guide dogs are free of charge), but later something came up and she abandoned the idea. A few years after she heard that the Taiwan Guide Dog Association had begun training guide dogs in Taiwan, and Chen applied then, though she had to wait a further three years for her turn to come up. At that time there were only eight guide dogs in all of Taiwan, not to mention that after leaving their foster families they would have to undergo six months of professional training and then be successfully matched to a visually impaired person before they could be considered genuinely "working."
But finally, after all the waiting, Chen got Dian.

"It's great to have you here!" Guide dogs don't make a sound, but their thought are always on heir masters, and they don't miss a single gesture or posture. The two photos show guide dogs accompanying their masters onto a bus and into a restaurant.
The color of happiness
A colleague described Dian's color as being like that of the sweet, aromatic layer of caramel on top of a creme brulee, "the color of happiness." As the first guide dog to share the life of Chen Shujun, Dian is Chen's "caramel baby."
After being matched up, the two of them had to undergo an eight-month period that included a "trial live-in" and joint training exercises, such as the routine for feeding and cleaning. Shujun feeds Dian specified dog food every morning and evening, while Dian sits motionless, no matter how hungry she is, waiting for Chen to tap on the dog dish to signify that Dian can start chowing down. To ensure that Dian-who after all constitutes a sizeable investment-remains in top condition, and also to bond owner and beast, each day Shujun washes Dian's face, brushes her teeth, cleans out her ears, and brushes her down. Stroking Dian, Shujun says, "I can't stop brushing her teeth until they are as lustrous as porcelain!"
Because guide dogs are trained from birth not to defecate or urinate indoors, no matter what the weather they have to go out each day to relieve themselves. When Dian first came to Chen, she was very picky and would shun grass that was wet or had any unfamiliar smells, and once when a typhoon brought three days of heavy rains, Dian wouldn't defecate at all, until finally Chen got so desperate she "nearly used a match to pry open the dog's anus." "Dian was really tough to deal with that time," Chen sighs.
Chen takes Dian to work every day, and when she started taking her on the MRT three or four years ago, some passengers would be rude enough to remark out loud, "How can you bring a dog on here? And not even with a muzzle!" But even more people enthusiastically took photos. Chen's coworkers at the job she had then also proved to be big fans of Dian, and they gave her a lot of freedom to move around and go wherever she wanted. But Dian spent most of her time "at her post" lying down or sleeping. Even taking her to class or meetings, where there would be people speaking loudy through microphones, the dog wouldn't move around at all.

The blind have not only lost their vision, but also the ability to lead independent lives, to walk out from their closed worlds, and to build intimate relationships with others-those are the losses that really hurt. Getting a guide dog can turn all that around. The photo shows Dian alongside Chen Shujun waiting for a bus.
Keeping pace
Dian devotes her life to her mistress, with the human and the canine developing a "state of love and trust." Shujun says that she and Dian "share one pair of eyes," so they must cooperate closely. Before setting out, Chen always draws a "mental map." When walking she has to pay close attention to traffic sounds (when the sounds of cars and those of walking feet are moving in the same direction, then the light must be green), and they have to be careful of signs along the side of the road. Chen can also pick up smells when passing in front of a hair salon or bakery, thus collecting clues as to how far she has walked, while Dian helps her avoid obstacles. If she gets lost, she leads the dog to a place with a lot of people around and asks directions.
At first when Chen was being led by Dian, she didn't really dare to walk boldly, fearing that she would fall or run into something. But as her confidence gradually increased, she discovered that she could walk at just about as fast a pace as people with normal eyesight. She realized why blind persons overseas became more courageous about going out and living full lives-whether in terms of psychological self-confidence or simply the convenience of ordinary daily routine-once they got guide dogs.
Dian's presence not only gives Shujun a feeling of safety and security, the dog is also very observant. For example when passing in front of a shop where they have bought things before, the dog might turn in of its own accord, reminding Shujun to think about whether or not there is anything she needs to buy-it's like having a personal assistant!
Despite all this, there is a downside: Shujun is often saddened by the erroneous understanding that many people in Taiwan have about guide dogs. In particular, a lot of owners of small shops needlessly worry. Once Chen took Dian to a bakery to buy some cake, and the owner, concerned that Dian's hair would get into the goods, wouldn't let Shujun in no matter how much she explained. Shujun had no choice but to make her purchase from outside the door.
On another occasion she went to a five-star hotel to give a presentation to a certain organization, and one of the members accidentally knocked over his own coffee and stained the carpet, but the hotel staff were all smiles as they cleaned up. Shujun thought to herself, "If it was Dian and even one drop of saliva hit the carpet, we'd probably be thrown out!"
Come on, spit it out!
Shujun laughingly says that Dian picks up well on people's vibes, can read facial expressions well, and knows how to "play innocent" to get sympathy.
Once when Chen took Dian out to relieve herself, after returning home Dian just sat quietly on the sofa, without playing with her toys or lying down to rest-she just sat there silently with her head down. Shujun thought she must have been sad about something, and gave her a dog-treat, not expecting that as soon as the dog opened her mouth she would spit out a bone, which had obviously been fed to her on the sly by someone when Chen was out walking her. Worried that her owner would discover, Dian held the bone in her mouth, lacking the bravado to take it out and chew on it, and in the end could only abashedly "confess." From this you can see how much of a challenge the command to "not eat even when food is right in front of your face" can be to a dog's willpower.
Behind the self-discipline of a guide dog's personality lies the use of games to allow it to release pent-up energy and emotions. Whenever the guide dog harness comes off after they get home, Dian knows that she is "off work," and then she loves to play tug-of-war or hide-and-go-seek with Shujun. Dian even remembers where Shujun had hid in former games, and uses her previous experience to find her again. When she finds Shujun she barks happily and wags her tail, appearing to be a completely different animal-and now very much a "dog"-from her watchful, silent working self.
As with other visually impaired persons, Shujun also feels "separation anxiety" toward Dian. "But I tell myself rationally that as long as I am good to her, and make her as happy as possible, then I will have contributed something positive toward her life and held up my end of the bargain." But Chen admits that she can't even imagine how she will react emotionally if and when that day finally comes.
For the safety of the master, a guide dog's "career" is limited to eight to 10 years. Dian has now been with Chen for four years, and is over six years old, and there are flecks of white in her brownish hair. Shujun says: "I couldn't live without her. Even when she retires, I will figure out some way to keep her with me, because she will always be my caramel baby!"