How to Stop a Groodle Chewing Everything (Step-by-Step)

Priya's nine-month-old Groodle, Biscuit, had eaten two TV remotes, a leather boot, and a corner of the skirting board — all in the same week. She'd tried firm "no's", she'd tried ignoring him, she'd even bought a $60 puzzle feeder that sat untouched while Biscuit demolished a cushion. By Friday night, she was Googling whether Groodles were just "bad dogs." They're not. And neither is yours.

What's Actually Driving the Chewing

Groodles — the Golden Retriever × Poodle cross — inherit a double dose of retrieval instinct and mouthy play style. Both parent breeds were bred to carry things, so putting objects in their mouth is genuinely rewarding at a neurological level; it's not spite or dominance or a personality flaw.

Destructive chewing usually has one of three root causes, and often a combination:

• Under-stimulation. A Groodle brain left idle will find its own entertainment. Chewing releases endorphins, so the behaviour is self-reinforcing — it literally feels good.
• Teething or tooth discomfort. From around four to seven months, chewing relieves gum pain. Biscuit was nine months, which sits right at the tail end of this window when adult molars are still settling in.
• Anxiety or under-confidence. Some Groodles, particularly those from high-demand litters or with inconsistent early socialisation, chew more when stressed, under-stimulated, or left alone for long stretches.

Knowing which bucket your dog sits in shapes the fix. Most owners are dealing with the first one — a smart, energetic dog that isn't getting enough of its brain used — with some teething on top.

Before You Train Anything, Set Up the Environment

Training alone won't stop groodle destructive chewing if the dog still has free run of the house and unlimited access to tempting items. The environment has to do the heavy lifting first.

Audit the access. For the next four weeks, limit your Groodle to one or two rooms you can easily supervise or puppy-proof. Baby gates (around $40–$80 at most hardware chains) are cheaper than a third remote.

Rotate chew options. Have at least three types available: something hard (a stuffed frozen Kong or a nylon chew), something edible and long-lasting (a bully stick, a raw marrow bone given outside), and something textural (a braided rope toy). Rotate them every two to three days so novelty is maintained. A bored dog ignores a toy it saw yesterday.

Remove the low-hanging fruit. Shoes go in the cupboard. Remotes go in a drawer. Skirting board corners can be sprayed with a pet-safe bitter deterrent (available from most vet clinics and pet stores, roughly $15–$25). These sprays don't fix the behaviour — they just reduce the reinforcement while you do the actual work.

Week One: Catch and Redirect

Your only job this week is to interrupt chewing on the wrong thing and immediately offer the right thing — no drama, no scolding.

When you catch Biscuit mid-chew on the skirting board, a calm "uh-uh" or simply a clap is enough to interrupt. The moment he disengages, produce a frozen Kong or a bully stick and let him have it. When he takes it and chews, quietly mark it ("yes" or a clicker click) and walk away. You want him to learn that picking up his chew object produces good things, not that dropping the boot produces a treat.

Spend five minutes, twice a day, doing what trainers call "name that toy." Hold out one of his designated chew items, say a name ("Kong," "bone," whatever you like), and reward him for sniffing or mouthing it. This sounds too simple. It works because it builds a positive association with specific objects — the opposite of generalised mouthiness.

Do not chase him if he's grabbed something and is running. Chase is a fantastic game. Instead, produce something better and let him choose.

Week Two: Build a Chew Habit Deliberately

By now your dog should be gravitating toward his own toys more often. This week, you start engineering automatic success.

Before you leave a room, set him up. Every time you walk out, hand Biscuit his Kong or a long-lasting chew first. You're building a conditioned association: owner leaves → chew appears → chewing is good. Over dozens of repetitions this becomes automatic on his end.

Introduce a short "settle" routine. Pick a mat or bed. Ask your dog to lie down on it, hand him a chew, and let him work on it for five to ten minutes. This gives the chewing behaviour a designated context and a designated outlet. It's also the foundation for calmness around alone time, which matters if separation is part of the picture.

Log what triggers chewing. Spend two minutes at the end of each day noting when the bad chewing happened. Most owners discover a pattern: 5 pm slump, post-walk adrenaline, or a specific room. Patterns are fixable.

Week Three and Beyond: Raise Criteria, Lower Management

If weeks one and two went reasonably well, you can start expanding freedom gradually — one room at a time, for short periods, with a chew available. Don't go from "two rooms supervised" to "whole house unsupervised" in a single leap. Groodles are smart enough to backslide if given the opportunity before the habit is solid.

Increase mental exercise before the known danger windows. A ten-minute sniff walk (let the dog lead and sniff whatever it wants — this is more tiring than a brisk structured walk), a short training session, or ten minutes of scatter feeding in the backyard will knock the edge off a dog that's been inside all day. Mental fatigue genuinely reduces the drive to chew inappropriately.

Keep rotating toys and keep frozen Kongs in your freezer as a standard habit. Stuffing takes about two minutes: mix kibble, a little peanut butter (xylitol-free — check the label), and freeze overnight. Make three or four at once and you have a week's worth.

When the Chewing Isn't Improving

If you've consistently managed the environment, provided appropriate chews, and redirected for four or more weeks without real improvement, it's worth ruling out two things.

First, see your vet. Persistent chewing in a dog past the teething window can occasionally signal dental pain, gastrointestinal discomfort (some dogs chew and eat non-food items when their gut is off), or a compulsive disorder. These are uncommon but worth excluding if the behaviour seems frantic or self-directed (chewing their own paws or tail base rather than objects).

Second, a single session with a qualified positive-reinforcement trainer — look for membership with the PPGA (Pet Professional Guild Australia) or Delta Society credentials — can identify what you're missing. One session typically costs $80–$150 and is almost always more useful than another set of deterrent sprays. If anxiety appears to be driving the chewing, particularly if it clusters around your departures, a certified trainer or veterinary behaviourist can assess whether a structured separation anxiety protocol is needed.

Biscuit, for what it's worth, took about three weeks to reliably choose his Kong over the skirting board. Week four, Priya found him asleep on his mat with a half-finished bully stick between his paws. Not because she found a magic trick, but because the environment made the right choice easy and the wrong choice boring.

That's the whole game.