Sometimes I think I understand how smart my Cane Corso, Tuxn, really is…
and then she blindsides me with a sequence of logic that feels more like a strategic operation than a dog asking for a treat.
Last night was one of those moments.
Tuxn had already eaten her dinner for the night — a homemade, no-seasoning gourmet meal that Dog Daddy lovingly cooks for her. He gave her one extra spoonful without realizing it, so I wanted her stomach to settle before she started her usual post-dinner jerky routine.
Tuxn insisting as I slide her table down the hall for lock-up.
To help her pause, I temporarily hid her jerky-routine buttons:
- The jerky routine buttons were buried two layers deep
- The table was blocked with chairs
- The sides were blocked
- Everything was physically unreachable
I wasn’t trying to deny her anything — I just needed her to digest safely before continuing her nightly ritual.
But Tuxn doesn’t run on “human timing.” She runs on her own internal schedule.
And according to her schedule, the jerky routine was supposed to happen next… blocked buttons or not.
What happened next honestly stunned me.
Tuxn’s 14-Step Cognitive Sequence
This is the exact multi-step chain she executed — on her own — when the jerky routine buttons were blocked:
- Recognized the missing button station (identifying a broken sequence)
- Searched the perimeter around the blocked area
- Noticed the rolling chair could be moved
- Pushed the chair to widen access (tool use / mechanical reasoning)
- Squeezed behind the desk through a tight opening
- Knocked a button to the ground and pressed it twice — “let me catch it” (activating the last step of the jerky ritual to force progress)
- Backed out and ran to the jerky cupboard (expecting me to complete my step in the sequence)
- Tracked my verbal question: “Where’s your jerky button?”
- Instantly switched direction and sprinted across the house
- Ran full speed down the hall to the office door
- Jammed her nose into the bottom of the door four times (attempting to lift or open it)
- Bolted inside the moment I opened it
- Ignored 30+ other buttons and pressed only “jerky time”
- Backed out fast, ready for the catch (completing the ritual loop)
She didn’t get distracted.
She didn’t act randomly.
She didn’t give up when blocked.
She followed a mental program — a multi-layered, goal-driven, problem-solving sequence with:
- memory
- spatial awareness
- persistence
- action-repair
- alternative routing
- timing
- emotional regulation
- and full-sentence communication
Aside from one simple sentence — “Where’s your jerky button?” — she completed the entire multi-step sequence on her own.
When she finally pressed “jerky time” — the one button she needed — she backed up, eyes locked on mine, ready for the traditional throw.
I tossed it
She caught it mid-air
Sequence complete.
This wasn’t a dog begging.
This was a dog solving.
And as much as I try to expect the unexpected from her, every time she runs a full routine like this, I’m reminded of how special — and how rare — her brand of intelligence really is.
Welcome to TuxnDog’s world…
where nothing is random,
every button has purpose,
and every routine is a puzzle she insists on finishing.