Learning to speak up (and why that changed everything)

Oh boy... where do I even start?

Running a dog photography business means lots of beautiful moments, happy but also sometimes anxious pups, and a little fun chaos. But it also means showing up prepared, mentally as well as creatively.

When I first started, I had all the usual fears. What if the lighting's terrible? What if I forget gear? What if I get there and the location is nothing like I imagined? The list goes on. And honestly, it would’ve been so easy to let that spiral of “what ifs” keep me from ever starting in the first place.

In those early sessions, I was uncomfortable speaking up when something didn’t feel right. I didn’t want to be that photographer that constantly repositions people or asks them to move after they just got their dog to finally sit. So I stayed quiet. I shot through it. And guess what? Most of those images ended up in the trash.

It took time (and a lot of trial and error) to realize that people hire me not just to take pretty photos, but to guide them through the process. They want me to help create the best version of these memories and sometimes that means asking someone to shift just a couple of inches into better light, or stepping away from a distracting background. It’s always worth it.

One of the weirdest sessions I ever had, and one that really shaped my business, was back when I still offered equine photography. A mom hired me to shoot her daughter and her horse and when I showed up, suddenly there were three girls, three horses, both parents, and a dog. I was overwhelmed. I hadn’t asked how many people would be involved, and I hadn’t clearly communicated what I offered. In the end, the shoot worked out, but it taught me a valuable lesson: know who you’re serving and be clear about what you do best.

That moment helped push me to focus on what I love. And that is solely dogs and their people, and the connection that only exists between them. Today, every session is built around that connection. No big production, no uncomfortable posing, just you and your dog, being yourselves, while I quietly capture the moments that matter most.

Because those are the images that last forever.