Is Your Dog on the Naughty List?
A kinder, truer look at “naughty” behavior — and what our dogs are really trying to tell us.
Every December, I think about the “naughty list.” Not for kids — for dogs. And the longer I live with dogs (49 years and counting), the more I realize that most “naughty” behavior isn’t naughty at all. It’s communication. It’s need. It’s confusion. It’s a dog trying to figure out how to live in a human world that makes absolutely no sense to them.
This year, that idea hit even harder after I watched She’s Making a List, the new Hallmark movie where Lacey Chabert plays an inspector for Santa’s Naughty or Nice list. The whole plot hinges on something I’ve learned over a lifetime with dogs: “naughty” is seldom the entire story. When you understand the why behind someone’s behavior — whether it’s an 11‑year‑old kid or a Labrador with a plan — everything changes.
And that’s really what this piece is about. Not perfection. Not obedience. Not “fixing” your dog. But partnership — the kind built on clarity, compassion, and the willingness to learn each other’s language.
Why Dogs End Up on the “Naughty List”
One of my favorite holiday toys used to be the Planet Dog Orbee Tuff Coal ball — a silly little lump of coal with the tagline, “I’ll be better next year, I promise.” I sold them at dog events because, let’s be honest, how many dogs are perfectly behaved all year? Even the best ones have their moments.
Tinkerbell once chewed the carpet fibers out of our living room. Jackson used to steal ornaments from the bottom of the tree every December. Quill cannot resist my husband’s winter hat, no matter how far we place it from the edge of the table. I mean, I did name him after a space thief, so I guess I should have seen this coming.
But here’s the truth I’ve learned after decades of raising dogs: Most dogs aren’t naughty.
They’re communicating.
They’re bored.
They’re under‑stimulated.
They’re confused.
They’re stressed.
They’re trying to get your attention.
They’re trying to meet a need they don’t have the words to express.
“Naughty” is the label we slap on behavior we don’t understand yet.

They’re Not Being Bad — They’re Being Dogs
Imagine living with a completely different species. You don’t speak the language. You don’t know the rules. You explore the world with your nose and your mouth — and suddenly you’re in trouble.
That’s what life is like for so many dogs.
They don’t know the difference between:
- the squeaky toy you bought them
- the stuffed bear your child loves
- the chair leg
- the moose antler
- the remote control
- the ornament on the tree
They’re not being bad. They’re being dogs — sentient creatures with thoughts, feelings, instincts, and needs that don’t always line up with what we want from them.
A Real‑Life Example: Quill the Ravager
Just this morning, Quill reminded me of this philosophy in action.
We’re still adjusting to our new routine since Tinkerbell passed away in July. Even five months later, the small daily rhythms feel different for him. When Tink was alive, he’d chew antlers with her in the mornings and basically spend the morning trying to get her to play with him. He would usually succeed. Now, he’s still figuring out what mornings look like.
I wanted to drink my coffee and watch Real Housewives.
He wanted to go outside and eat the chunks of ice on the deck.
Our goals for the morning were not in alignment.
When he didn’t get his way, he started stealing everything he could reach — my husband’s hat, a roll of wrapping paper, a three‑pack of Scotch tape. He knows theft gets my attention. He’s not dumb. And he DOES get my attention, because I can’t let him destroy something if he does successfully acquire contraband. I have to go after him, and even if he’s getting a firm “leave it” from me, he’s still had a mini game of keep away and gotten a response from me.
So I did what we’ve practiced: I calmly corrected him, gave him our cue — “time to chill” — and let that be the reset. He went to his blanket on the sofa, settled, and then I gave him attention.
Because dogs thrive on predictability, we stick to a routine. We walk at almost the same time every day, which keeps his brain steady and his mischief at a simmer instead of a rolling boil.
I could easily classify his morning shenanigans as naughty. However, he wasn’t being naughty. He was being a dog with a need, a feeling, and a plan. He wants to play for the two hours between breakfast and walks, and I need some time for the coffee to bring my energy level closer to his.
What You Don’t See in Those Cute Sleeping Photos
Ten years ago, when I first wrote about this, I was raising Tinkerbell and Jackson. We lost Tink this year, and even typing her name brings a lump to my throat. We lost Jackson in 2022, and his absence still feels like a missing piece of my heart. Quill was conceived the weekend Jax died, and his arrival has been a kind of healing I didn’t know I needed.
The lessons those two taught me — patience, repetition, understanding how dogs think, and the importance of “chew this, not that” — are still the foundation of how I raise Quill today.
And here’s the part I sometimes feel guilty about, because I feel like I’m not sharing what it’s really like living with a young, intelligent Labrador retriever. What I mean is that I post the cute, sleepy photos of Quill. The peaceful ones. The ones where he looks like the world’s easiest dog.
What you don’t see is what it took to earn that nap:
- a 30‑minute walk
- a 15‑minute training session
- backyard fetch
- pockets of one‑on‑one interaction throughout the day
Good behavior isn’t magic. It’s your dog’s needs being met. It’s your dog understanding your expectations and the household’s rules.
“Naughty” behavior is usually a sign of:
- unmet needs
- unclear boundaries
- lack of enrichment
- winter boredom
- stress from holiday chaos
- changes in routine
- or a dog who just wants your attention

Setting Your Dog Up for Success
Understanding the why behind the behavior doesn’t mean letting it slide. Quill is beautifully behaved most of the time. Still, he absolutely has his moments — especially during long Illinois winters when we’re stuck inside, and we are both going through cabin fever. I still interrupt and redirect Quill’s mischief — but I also ask myself what need he’s expressing so I can help him succeed next time.
He’s not being bad. He’s saying, “I need something to do.”
I spend at least two hours a day giving him dedicated one‑on‑one time — walking, training, playing, interacting. That might sound like a lot to some people; meanwhile, I often worry it’s still not enough for his brain.
As a puppy from a purpose‑bred breeder, Quill was always going to end up in a good home. If it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been someone else. That truth makes me even more determined to give him the best life I can.
I’ve said this before, but it’s still true: I’m the one who comes out ahead in this relationship. So every day, I try to even the score.
The Responsibility We Take On As Dog Owners
It’s not fun to be on the naughty list. It sounds fun — mischief, chaos, doing whatever you want. But it’s not fun to constantly be scolded or reprimanded.
So before you put your dog on the naughty list this year, ask yourself:
- Have I taught them the rules clearly?
- Have I given them enough mental and physical stimulation?
- Have I set them up for success?
- Have I made it easy for them to make the right choice?
Dogs don’t magically know how to live in our world. We teach them. We guide them. We show them what “yes” looks like.
It’s like starting a new job with no instructions. You try to figure it out, but you keep getting told you’re doing it wrong. Your frustration grows. Everyone gets stressed.
Sound familiar?
In my 20s, I started a job where the manager didn’t even know I had been hired. That first morning, they had no idea what to do with me, and sat me down to spend the entire day reading a manual. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but I resigned before lunch, and by the end of the day, I had my old job back at my previous employer.
Your dog cannot do that. So instead, they grab your husband’s custom-embroidered hat that his favorite captain on the fire department got for the whole team, and it can’t be replaced. Oddly specific, I know, but something Quill once grabbed and tried to eat when he was bored.
It’s Never Too Late to Teach and Train
It’s never too late to work on training, enrichment, or to understand your dog better.
The Orbee Tuff Coal toy is no longer available — which is a shame, because it was adorable and mint‑scented and made people laugh. But the point was never the toy.
The point is this:
The goal isn’t for our dogs to “be better next year.” It’s for us to become better partners.
Kinder. More curious. More patient. More willing to see the need behind the behavior. More willing to show up, even when we’re tired or imperfect.
Because that’s the real magic — of the season, of the movie, of dog ownership, of life.
Your dog has needs. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be kind, loving, and not give up.
That’s how you get off the naughty list — together.