This list of chalkboard assignments may be used for your dog when he does not behave well. The below variations and choices will help you pick an assignment. A. Fill in the blanks
1. [xxx] is not food.
Spiders; bandaids; ivy and airplane plants; Xmas ornaments; the carved jack-o-lantern; plants from the aquarium; cat litter box contents; laundry detergent boxes (esp. not when full!); toothpaste (tube and all); remote controls; linoleum; eyeglasses; books; stockings; the tar shingles on my house; chicken wire; bizarre plants; disposable razors; rocks; Lego; dirty Kleenex; the baby’s used diaper; Christmas stockings; soda pop cans; fiberglass insulation stuffed up the chimney; the underwear in the clothes hamper; Mommy’s hair accessories; Mommy’s catnip teabags; unopened honey packets; staples; Christmas stockings; credit cards, CDs, and other thin plastic things.
2. I will not lift my leg to the [xxx].
Anything growing in the vegetable garden;
house corner; new boyfriend; mailman; woodstove; subordinate pack members; Grandma’s plush chair; the conformation judge; good-looking neighbour man that Mommy is trying to impress; Daddy in the lawn chair.
3. I recognize that [xxx] has a right to exist.
The humans’ shoes; the human’s cats; the aquarium; 3rd grade art projects (even if they are made of macaroni shells); the other dog(s); the TV remote control; the human’s little humans; the bath mitt; Rolling Stone magazine; large patterns on wallpaper;
4. [xxx] is not a toy.
The humans’ shoes; the human’s cats; the humans’ pet cockatiel; newly planted iris bulbs; pillows and blankets from the bed; laundry (dirty OR clean); aquarium plants; stuffed animals from on top of the chest of drawers; pillows and blankets from the newly made bed; the hose that’s filling the kiddie pool; the humans’ Nerf footballs; human’s underwear; Mommy and Daddy’s ferrets.
5. I will not chew the [xxx].
Human’s homework; human’s papers s/he has to mark; remote control; cardboard around the laundry detergent; handles to the lawn tools; garage door; kitchen cabinets; food left within reach on the couch; the mini-human’s *full* bottle even though it conveniently fell in front of me from the crib; horse’s new saddle; wall; carpet; deck; couch; sofa
cushions; expensive paperbacks.
6. I will not bark at [xxx].
Plastic bags on the ground; the new plow blade on my owner’s truck when it is parked; the wind; thunder; the road grader; Daddy’s new Santa bear toy (which was innocently sitting on a chair, and had been there for hours before Molly noticed it and took umbrage); tissue paper being blown along the floor by air from the furnace; the spring doorstop when I or the kid flips it and makes it go DOooiiiiinnnnnng; my mother’s clean laundry thrown on top of the bed, even if the room is dark and it looks like someone sleeping there; the ball I just pushed into an inaccessible crevice all by myself; the fox/skunk/cat/deer out in the yard at any time after midnight, especially on a work night; the fire hydrant on the corner when out for a walk at night; the car radio; the answering machine lady when she says the date/time; the ice cube that slid under the fridge; the rawhide chewbone that I’m making no headway on; absolutely nothing (especially after 11 PM).
7. I will not dig [xxx].
Under the stove (and through the linoleum); under the sidewalk until it collapses; the carpet; a hole under the porch and then get stuck under it; under my master’s pillow at 2 AM to retrieve the bone I hid there earlier; a swimming pool in the back yard;