I used to be that Dog Mom.
“Sit, Bella. Sit.”
I wanted pretty dog photos of her sitting. Square. Composed. Looking sweetly into the camera like all the good girls on Instagram.
But being Dog Mom to a Maremma sheepdog means adjusting every plan to what she wants to do. What she feels like doing.
Because commands don’t always land with a Maremma. You can see them hearing you. Processing you. Weighing your request against their own internal constitution.
And you get two choices:
- Get increasingly frustrated while you watch them decide.
- Learn to go with their flow.
It didn’t take long to realize frustration wasn’t going to win, so I adjusted.
I stopped chasing the perfect “sit” in my dog photography sessions. I leaned into what I now call the Power Pose – tall, grounded, sovereign. And I let go of the idea that she would ever lock eyes with my lens just because I asked.
Then I felt the Earth shift beneath me.
The photos felt more like her.
What that taught me about control
Living with a dog who doesn’t perform on cue teaches you something important:
Control is mostly an illusion.
You can demand.
You can repeat yourself.
You can tighten your jaw.
Or you can pay attention.
You can notice when their body is tired. When their energy dips. When what they’re offering is different from what you expected.
That lesson followed me straight into my Ever After sessions with families who want meaningful photos with their dog before everything changes.
This is not a performance
When families reach out about booking a goodbye session, almost every one of them says some version of the same thing:
“He doesn’t sit anymore.”
“She can’t hold a stay.”
“He gets tired so fast.”
“She doesn’t look like herself.”
Let’s slow life down some. Your dog does not need to sit for beautiful dog photos. They do not need to look at the camera. They do not need to behave.
They only need to be comfortable.
In this chapter of your lives together, dog photography focuses on comfort, closeness and truth. It honors the life you’re living together right now.
Let the dog set the pace
If your dog needs to lie down, we lie down.
If they offer a small burst of energy, we use that window and never push it.
If they turn away from the camera and lean into your chest instead, that is not something going wrong.
That is the photograph.
A slow walk across the yard.
A head resting on your knee.
A quiet breath shared in the shade.
We follow their rhythm because their body sets the pace now. Slowness isn’t a compromise. It’s respect.
When you look back at these dog photos years from now, sit down and flip through that photo album, you won’t be grading posture. You’ll be remembering how it felt.
What love looks like right now
Sometimes clients ask, “Should I be in the photos with my dog?”
A better question is: What does love look like right now?
Maybe it’s a portrait of the two of you together.
Maybe it’s your hand buried in familiar fur.
Maybe it’s sitting on the floor together because that’s the only place that feels right.
There is no emotional script for this session. You may laugh. You may cry. You may go quiet. All of it belongs.
My job in a goodbye session is to move slowly enough that you forget about the camera. To create space where you and your dog can simply be together.
What you’ll actually care about later
Years from now, you won’t remember where the sun was during your dog photography session.
You won’t remember whether your dog sat perfectly or held eye contact.
You will remember that they were comfortable.
That you weren’t rushed.
The weight of their head against your chest.
The way your fingers curled into their fur.
Sometimes one honest photograph – a paw on your hand, a shared breath in stillness – is enough.
Bella taught me long before illness ever entered the picture that love is not about getting what you ask for. It’s about honoring what is offered.
In a goodbye session, I am not looking for obedience.
I am looking for ease. Dignity. Connection.
Slow is not a compromise.
It is how we protect what matters most.
And when you look back at those dog photos, you won’t see perfection.
You will feel love.
If time feels short and you’re ready for photos with your dog, text me at (509) 720-8784. Ever After sessions take priority.
