If my dog Freddie were human, he’d be a perfectionist.  Note my choice of the word “if.”  I generally try not to anthropomorphize animals because imagining they’re capable of higher order cognition can lead us to expect too much of them.  Still, sometimes it’s hard not to project our own emotions onto their mutely expressive faces.

Last night I gave each of my dogs an “educational” Swedish puzzle toy to entertain them.  The dog has to figure out how to move swiveling layers, lift off bone-shaped covers, and open sliding hatches to get to hidden morsels of food.  Just like my kids did when they were little, my dogs show as much interest in the packaging as in the toys themselves.  But since I shelled out a ridiculous amount of money on these “fun, interactive games,” I occasionally try to put them to use.

The ads for the Dog Tornado and Dog Twister promise hours of stimulation for your pet.  Once the animal has figured out how to get to the treats, you can increase the difficulty in a variety of ways to build brainpower.  The designer clearly hasn’t encountered a dog like Freddie.

Freddie is a quick learner.  If he were human, he’d be the kid in the class whose hand shoots up before the teacher has even finished asking the question.  When I’m giving a command to Baxter, who’s a little slower on the uptake, Freddie pushes him out of the way and responds first.

So I decided to give Freddie the harder puzzle.  Baxter got the easier one.  I filled both with identical bits of kibble.

And guess what?  Baxter, whose skills I grossly underestimated, swiveled the stacked trays with his nose, pawed frantically at the little trap doors, and scarfed down all the food before Freddie had even extracted one piece.  Then I switched the puzzles, giving Freddie the easier one.  Baxter had to work a little harder on the more challenging toy.  Undeterred, he kept at it until he had emptied almost every compartment.  With a final, vigorous push with his snout, he upended the whole contraption to dislodge the last bits. Freddie managed to slide a few of the covers on his toy open before he dropped to the ground, whined, and looked up at me expectantly with his head between his paws

That’s the downside of being clever and always following the rules, wanting to get it just right.  If success comes too easily to you, you can’t cope with the frustration when something doesn’t go your way.

Freddie was too tentative and gave up.  Baxter had his eyes on the prize and didn’t quit.  He wasn’t afraid to make mistakes and tried different strategies to get what he wanted.

But they’re just dogs.