If you’ve read my recent ‘Let’s talk balls’ piece you’ll know the tone by now. This isn’t about banning fun. It’s not about shaming anyone. And it’s definitely not about dramatic scare tactics but it is about understanding very real risks and making the right decisions. The danger is that we presume something is harmless because it’s common.

Sticks fall squarely into that category.

They’re everywhere. They’re free. Dogs love to grab them. It feels natural and very ‘dog’. I mean how many endearing videos are there online of a dog proudly trotting along with a big stick in its mouth? Woodland walks and a game of fetch with a stick just seem to go together.

But sticks aren’t designed to be thrown, caught at speed, crushed in jaws or chewed into fragments. And that’s where the problem starts.

First, why do dogs like sticks?

Sticks appeal to dogs because they’re interesting on every level. They smell different each time, their rough textures make them satisfying to grip and chew and they taste earthy and unfamiliar (though I’ll talk in a later article about how, surprisingly, dogs don’t necessarily care what things taste like, like we do).

That said, just because something keeps a dog occupied doesn’t mean it’s a good long-term choice. Letting dogs chew sticks can easily turn into a habit that’s hard to undo, and given the risks that come with splintering wood, it’s not something I’m keen to reinforce.

What makes sticks risky?

The issue is how dogs interact with sticks. Dogs don’t always delicately carry sticks like a prize in a show ring. They can sprint at them. They can snatch them mid-air. They can land on them. They can clamp down hard and readjust their grip and chew.

Wood splinters. And cracks. And it snaps unpredictably.

When a dog runs at full speed towards a thrown stick that’s bounced or landed upright, it can act like a spear. That sounds dramatic, but it’s physics. Momentum plus a rigid object equals force. Injuries in these cases can be deep and severe, often involving the mouth, throat or chest.

Even without that worst-case scenario, there are more common injuries that don’t make headlines:

• Small puncture wounds in the roof of the mouth.
• Splinters embedded in the tongue or gums.
• Fragments swallowed and later causing irritation or infection.

Because wood breaks irregularly, it creates sharp edges. It isn’t smooth like a purpose-made toy. And it can be hard to see injury and hurt until your dog is already uncomfortable.

“But dogs have always played with sticks!”

Yes. And of course, a lot of the time nothing catastrophic happens.

But “a lot of the time” isn’t the same as low risk. It just means the consequences are uneven. You might throw sticks for years without issue. Someone else might do it once and end up at an emergency vet.

In 2019, Direct Line Pet Insurance published some pretty awful statistics. They claimed that at that point, 1.4 million dogs in the UK had been injured by sticks, suffering problems including throat lacerations, de-gloving injuries and even death.

They estimated that pet insurers process a claim every 30 minutes from a dog owner whose pet has been injured by a stick. Treatment isn’t always minor either. In one case they reported, a dog who suffered a throat injury from a piece of wood needed veterinary care costing more than £7,600. They stated that across insurance claims, the average payout for stick-related injuries sits at around £795. And that was seven years ago.

Of course that doesn’t mean every stick thrown leads to surgery, but it does mean this isn’t a rare, unheard-of freak accident either.

Remember, risk is about severity as well as frequency.

The part people don’t talk about

There’s another element to it that’s less dramatic but still worth mentioning.

Repeated stick chasing can be high-arousal with high-impact movement. Full speed sprinting. Abrupt stopping. Sharp turns. Jumping from a standstill. Dogs don’t warm up. They don’t pace themselves. They don’t stop because their shoulders are tired.

That repetitive strain isn’t unique to sticks (hence my dislike of ball chuckers), but sticks can make awkward objects to grab and twist around with which adds to the strain that type of activity can put on a dog’s MSK system.

And because sticks are ‘natural’, we often don’t question the game at all.

So, what’s the alternative?

This isn’t me saying your dog can never pick up a stick again. You can’t control every moment, and of course there are the dogs that trot along nicely carrying their stick beautifully.

It is me saying I don’t throw them, and if a dog on one of my walks finds one and picks it up, it’s time to use the leave command (I know, mean old auntie Holly!).

I personally don’t use toys on my walks, but if you do, there are safer options. Solid rubber toys designed for dogs. Toys with airflow built in. Shapes that don’t shatter into shards.

And sometimes, no throwing at all is an option (sorry). Sniffing, exploring, moving at a natural pace and engaging with the environment does far more for a dog’s wellbeing than repeated adrenaline spikes ever will.

Holly, you’re just the stick fun police!

I know sticks feel harmless but the injuries they can cause aren’t.

Like balls, it’s not about perfection. It’s about understanding how dogs use objects with their mouths and bodies and adjusting accordingly.

Informed choices are always better than accidental ones. Miika’s poor owner, Chris, was certainly never expecting to be rushing her to the vets after a 14cm stick got stuck in her neck from a game of fetch. Understanding the risks lets you make better decisions – there are safer ways to have just as much fun.