How to Stop a French Bulldog Chewing Everything (Step-by-Step)

Priya's nine-month-old Frenchie, Biscuit, had eaten through two TV remotes, the corner of a couch cushion, and — somehow — a silicone oven mitt in the space of a single work week. She'd tried saying "no," tried the bitter-apple spray, tried ignoring it. Nothing stuck. By Friday evening she was googling at 11 pm, convinced she'd already cemented some irreversible bad habit into her dog's personality.

She hadn't. Biscuit was just a young French Bulldog doing exactly what young French Bulldogs do.

What's Actually Going On in That Flat-Faced Brain

French Bulldog destructive chewing isn't a character flaw or proof of bad ownership. It's almost always one of three things — or a combination of all three.

Teething and oral fixation. French Bulldogs have a compressed jaw and crowded teeth. Chewing is genuinely relieving for them, especially between three and ten months of age when adult teeth are coming through or settling. The discomfort is real.

Under-stimulation and boredom. Frenchies are people-oriented dogs who were bred to be companions, not to work all day alone. Left to their own devices for hours, they will find their own entertainment. Your skirting board becomes a chew toy not out of spite but out of sheer having nothing else to do.

Anxiety and stress. Separation anxiety is common in the breed. A dog who chews only when left alone — and who also barks, pants, paces or toilets inside when you leave — is telling you something different. That pattern deserves a separate conversation (and possibly a referral to a vet or certified behaviourist), but it's worth flagging here because the fix is genuinely different from plain boredom chewing.

For Biscuit, the pattern was clear: the destruction happened every time Priya was at work. No oven mitt was harmed on weekends. Classic boredom and under-stimulation, with a splash of teething still in play.

Setting the Scene Before Any Training Starts

No training plan outpaces a poorly managed environment. Before you teach anything, you need to make chewing the wrong thing physically difficult.

Do a 60-second audit. Walk through your home and remove or relocate anything chewable at dog height — shoes by the door, charger cables trailing along the floor, kids' toys in the lounge. Put them away for now. This isn't a permanent life sentence; it's scaffolding while you train.

Use baby gates or a playpen. When you can't supervise, confine Biscuit to a dog-proofed zone. This isn't punishment — it's preventing him from rehearsing the wrong behaviour. Every time a dog successfully chews something forbidden, that behaviour gets slightly more ingrained. Stopping the repetitions matters.

Stock up on appropriate chews. You need variety because Frenchies get bored of the same textures. Aim for three to five options rotating through the week: a rubber Kong stuffed and frozen, a bully stick, a rope toy, a Nylabone-style nylon chew, and something like a licki mat smeared with mashed banana or dog-safe peanut butter. Budget roughly $30–$60 AUD to get a good starter kit. Frozen Kongs are particularly useful for teething dogs — the cold soothes inflamed gums.

Week One: Swap, Don't Scold

The single most effective early intervention is the swap technique, and it takes about two seconds per repetition.

The moment you catch your dog chewing something forbidden — calmly, without drama — say "uh-uh" or just clap once to interrupt, then immediately offer an appropriate chew. The second your dog takes it, praise warmly and walk away. That's it.

What you must not do: chase, yell, repeat "no" ten times, or grab the item from their mouth without offering a replacement. Chasing turns this into a game. Repeated "no" without follow-through teaches nothing. Snatching without swapping teaches your dog to guard items — a far worse problem than chewing.

Priya committed to carrying a small chew in her pocket whenever she was home with Biscuit for the first two weeks. It felt faintly absurd, but it meant she could respond within two seconds every time, which is what makes the swap land.

Set up one 5-minute training session daily during week one. Sit on the floor with your dog, offer an appropriate chew, and when they take it calmly, quietly praise them. You're building the habit of engaging with their things rather than yours.

Week Two: Teaching "Leave It"

"Leave it" is one of the most practically useful cues a Frenchie can learn, and it's straightforward to build.

Hold a low-value treat in your closed fist. Your dog will sniff, lick, paw — wait. The moment they pull back or look away, open your hand and give a different, better treat from your other hand. Repeat 5–6 times per session, once a day. Within a few days, most dogs start pulling back faster as they work out what unlocks the reward.

Once your dog is reliably backing off your fist, begin practising with a tempting item on the floor. Say "leave it" as your dog moves toward it, and reward generously when they divert to you instead.

Biscuit had a reliable "leave it" by day ten. Not perfect — he still tested it with socks — but the cue was working in calm conditions, which is where you always build from.

Week Three and Beyond: Building Independence

By now, Biscuit's environment was managed, he knew which chews were his, and "leave it" was in the toolkit. Week three is about extending the habit when you're not in the room.

Rotate chews every two to three days. Novelty keeps the interest up. A bully stick that's been sitting around for five days is boring; a new frozen Kong is exciting.

Increase mental stimulation. Ten minutes of sniff work — scattering kibble in the grass, using a snuffle mat, or hiding treats around the room — tires a Frenchie out more effectively than a long walk. For a breed prone to breathing difficulties, mental exercise is often kinder than physical.

Gradually increase alone time. If your dog struggles when left, build up in small increments: five minutes, ten, twenty, an hour. Don't jump straight from zero to eight hours. This isn't realistic for every owner's work schedule, and if your dog is genuinely anxious rather than just bored, a dog walker, doggy day care (typically $35–$80 AUD per day in most Australian cities), or a puppy sitter a few days a week is money well spent.

The Plateau: When Progress Stalls

Most dogs improve steadily for two to three weeks and then seem to backslide. This is normal — they're testing the new rules, not unlearning them.

If you hit a plateau, check three things. First, are you still managing the environment well, or have you relaxed too soon and given your dog repeated access to forbidden items? Second, are the chews still interesting? Third, are you being consistent, or have there been a few "oh, it's fine just this once" moments? One or two exceptions won't ruin months of work, but a pattern of exceptions will.

If chewing suddenly gets dramatically worse after a period of calm, see your vet. Pain — dental pain in particular — can trigger a spike in chewing behaviour. French Bulldogs are prone to dental crowding and the discomfort that comes with it.

If you've been working the plan for four to six weeks with no meaningful improvement, and you've ruled out a medical cause, a session or two with a certified dog trainer or veterinary behaviourist is genuinely worth it. Look for someone who uses reward-based methods; NDTF or PPGA credentials are a reasonable starting point in Australia. One or two sessions — typically $100–$200 AUD per session — can identify what's being missed far faster than months of guesswork at home.

Priya didn't need that step. By week four, Biscuit had two go-to chews he reliably chose over the furniture, "leave it" was working even when distracted, and the remotes were back on the coffee table. Not because Biscuit was suddenly a perfect dog, but because the management, the swaps, and the training had quietly changed his default choice.

That's what this process looks like. Undramatic, gradual, and it works.