Ever wondered what happens when you mix dog food, a canvas, and zero shame? You get wall-worthy art… sort of.
So here’s the thing. My corgi Emma is the kind of dog who needs to be involved in everything. Cooking dinner? She’s in the kitchen. Folding laundry? She’s sitting on the laundry. So when I saw those fancy pet paw print kits online—y’know, the ones that let you immortalize your dog’s nose or foot like it’s a royal relic—I thought, cute, but let’s go weirder.
What if, instead of just capturing her pawprint, I let her paint something?
No paws needed. Just a canvas, some paint, and a delicious bribe.
What You’ll Need (a.k.a. the setup for canine chaos)
- 1 dog (preferably a food-motivated one)
- Canvas – any size, depends on how wild your dog gets
- Acrylic paint – I used blue, dark blue, and white
- Plastic wrap or a clear plastic bag
- Dog pâté (or any spreadable treat your dog can’t resist)
- Popsicle stick, spoon, or fingers if you’re feeling bold
- Optional: beach stuff like sand, seashells, pebbles
- White glue (PVA) + hot glue gun if you’re committed
Making process
I squeezed paint directly onto the canvas in little blobs. Mostly blue, then a bit of white to lighten things up, and finally a touch of deep blue for “drama.” No brush. No rules. Just vibes. If you’ve never felt the thrill of squeezing acrylic paint onto a blank canvas while your dog watches like it’s edible—well, you’re missing out.
This is where things get… gourmet. I smeared dog pate (yes, with a spoon, I’m not a monster) all over the inside of a clear plastic bag.
Then I gently pressed the bag over the paint-covered canvas so that the paint stayed underneath and the snack was on top. Think of it as a dog-safe paint barrier. A protective layer of meat-flavored temptation. Note: if your dog is the “inhale first, ask questions later” type, double-bag it. Emma’s pretty dainty (for a corgi), so one layer held up.
I handed the canvas-wrapped-in-meat to Emma. She lost her mind.
She licked like she was uncovering the secrets of the universe. And as she did, the pressure from her little corgi tongue smushed the paint into some oddly beautiful patterns. It was like a sea storm on canvas. Very abstract. Very wet. And somehow… it worked?.
After she’d thoroughly de-meated the bag, I peeled it off and voilà — dog-assisted abstract art. Honestly, it looked like waves. Not that calm, crystal-clear sea you see in resort brochures. More like “storm approaching but still kind of pretty” sea. So, I leaned into it. But gave it some time to dry.
I went into full scrapbook mode. Dug out my stash of sea-themed treasures: real sand from that one vacation I almost relaxed on, random shells I refuse to throw away, and those tiny white pebbles that somehow always end up in craft stores. I smeared a bit of white glue along the “shoreline” and sprinkled the sand until it stuck. Yes, it made a mess. No, I do not regret it.
Then I hot-glued some shells. But here’s where fate stepped in.
I had these two broken shell pieces that looked suspiciously like flippers. Like... turtle flippers. You see where I’m going with this? Yep. I made a sea turtle. Out of garbage. And I felt like Michelangelo for 30 full seconds.
This whole project took maybe an hour total minus the drying time. Emma got snacks, I got art, and nobody ate paint (victory). The final piece actually looks good enough to hang. Like, in a real room. Where people can see it. And the best part? Every time I look at it, I remember her little pink tongue working overtime for that pâté.
Want to try it?
Do it. It’s ridiculous and messy and oddly touching.
You could do a floral theme if you go with green/yellow paints, or make a galaxy using black and purple and silver. Instead of a turtle, glue a tiny boat. Or don’t add anything at all—just let your dog’s abstract genius shine.
Trust me, it’s more fun than a wine and paint night. And your dog won’t judge your brush technique.