It is true that chimpanzees use sticks and straw tools to retrieve termites for food. This amazes biologists. It puzzles Jack Russell Terriers.  

Why grow opposable thumbs, perform difficult tasks and give up a cool set of front legs when you can  train slow-witted hominids to do the work for you.

Maisie the JRT is nearly sixteen years old now, more than 100 in dog years. If  it is true that you cannot teach an old dog new tricks, it does not work the other way around. Maisers teaches me new ones every week.  I fail regularly.  She is patient.

It started the other way around, of course. 

First, she learned that etiquette required an outdoors toilette.   Soon, she would walk to the door when she wanted to be let out. Then, she learned that when she ran to the door, the hominids ran too -- thinking the call of nature was immediate.  Not long after, she ran to the door full tilt, causing me to run to let her out.  She looked at the open door, looked at me. 
Then she moved three feet to the left and stood in front of the refrigerator door. She fixed the fridge with the same intense stare she gave the back door.  I did nothing.  She looked up at me until she caught my eyes.  Then she looked at the fridge door. Back to my eyes, then to the fridge door. Her head actually moves toward the fridge in such moments.  It is a quick short jerk.   An indicator.  Almost a friendly crib for a slow friend. 

So sure. What else could I do. 

There are variations on this theme. The scamper to the back door can mean she really needs to go outside.  It can mean the fridge.  Now it can mean that she wants me to go to bed.  She goes to the back door, sees I am up and have momentum -- and then she scampers up the stairs.
Many times, she has it right. Lights out and I follow her up. She can't make the jump up onto the bed anymore, but she has a fix for that as well.  She stands near the bed, looking backward over her shoulder. When I approach and she feels my hands, she then jumps up...and I fly her up to her nest for the night.