My "About Page" had a photo of a version of me that doesn't exist anymore. A friend, a fellow pet photographer, took it as a favor. It was kind, and I was grateful, and I hadn't thought twice about it. Until this year, when I looked at it and felt a small jolt. That wasn't me anymore.
I've lost weight this past year, and it turns out a photo can hold onto an old version of you long after you've moved past it yourself. Every time that image showed up in my email signature or on my website, there was a quiet dissonance. Not a bad photo. Just an old one.
So this summer, I did the thing I ask my clients to do all the time. I booked a session. Except this time, I was the one standing in front of the camera instead of behind it.
What I learned in that hour is something I think every client who has ever hesitated to book with me deserves to hear.
What actually happens at a pet and equine photography session
A good session is guided from the first minute to the last. You are not left to figure out where to stand, what to do with your hands, or whether the light is right. That is the photographer's job, not yours.
My photographer, Dana Gaydon of Modern Joy Studios, moved quickly into the practical work of the session. She read the light and positioned me to take advantage of it. She took a test shot, looked at it, adjusted something small, and tried again. There was no guessing. There was a clear, confident process, and I could feel that she was in charge of it, even when I had no idea what came next.
This is exactly the experience I aim to create for my own clients, whether the session is with a dog or a horse. With dogs, that guidance is aimed at both the owner and the animal, reading the dog's energy, working with their handler to bring out real personality rather than a stiff sit-and-stay. With horses, the dynamic is a little different. The owner is always the one handling their horse. I am the unfamiliar person standing off to the side with a camera, giving direction. My job is to be calm and clear enough that both the owner and the horse trust the process, even though I am the newest person in the arena.
Is it normal to feel nervous before a session?
Yes. Almost universally yes.
My own nervousness started before I ever arrived. What should I wear. What would the location actually look like once we got there. Would I know what to do the moment the camera came up. I have heard some version of these same questions from clients before nearly every session I have ever done, and I understood them intellectually. I did not understand them the way I did once I was the one asking them myself.
It turns out that if I, someone who has run pet and equine sessions for years, felt unsteady walking into mine, the nerves my clients describe are real and often bigger than they let on. A dog owner wonders whether their dog will settle or perform. A horse owner, who has spent countless hours building trust with their horse, feels the added weight of handing over some of that dynamic to an unfamiliar person with a camera, even though they are the one holding the lead. None of that nervousness means something is wrong. It means you are about to do something you have not done before, with an animal you love, and that matters to you.
What a good photographer does with that nervousness
The difference between a session that feels stressful and one that feels calm comes down almost entirely to the photographer's confidence and communication, not the client's or the animal's cooperation.
Dana's real-time feedback was the thing that changed the experience for me most. When I moved a certain way or gave her an expression she liked, she told me immediately, out loud, in the moment. That small habit did something I did not expect. It let me stop performing and just be present, because I was not left wondering whether anything I was doing was working.
I came away from that hour with a renewed appreciation for what I try to do for my own clients, dog owners and horse owners alike. Reading the moment. Giving direction with confidence. Telling someone, right when it happens, that what just passed between them and their animal was exactly the thing worth capturing. It also left me with a few ideas for how I want to make my own design and order appointments feel even smoother, since Dana's reveal process had a few rough edges I noticed only because I sit on the other side of that process every week.
Seeing the images for the first time
We reviewed the images together on a video call, the same way I do with my own clients. Some I loved the moment I saw them. A few, if I am honest, could have used a bit more direction on my posture or my angle, the kind of small thing I now notice with a photographer's eye.
But when I set that critical eye aside and asked myself a simpler question, does this feel like me, would I be proud to put this in front of my clients, the answer was immediate. What I felt was relief. Validation, even, in the decision to invest in myself this way. Was it worth it? Without hesitation, yes. Not because every image was flawless, but because I finally have images that belong to who I am right now, not who I used to be.
If you have been putting this off
If you have been circling a session with your dog or your horse, wondering whether you or your animal will know what to do, I can tell you from very recent, very direct experience that the nerves are normal, and a good session is built to hold them for you. You are not expected to arrive with a plan. You are expected to show up, and be guided.
I would be honored to help you create something timeless with your pet or your horse. Something that captures not just how you both look, but what you mean to each other, in this particular season of your life together.
If that feels like a leap you have been circling, I would love to talk it through with you.
