A Serious Question for Pet Owners

I want to talk about something we all know, even if our hearts usually try to deny it.

If everything goes right—if we get the best-case scenario—we get about twelve years with our pets. Maybe a few more if we’re lucky. In the grand scheme of a human life, it’s a blink. In their life, it’s a lifetime.

It’s a heavy reality to sit with, but it leads to a question I’ve been thinking about a lot lately:

When that time eventually comes to an end, would you rather avoid thinking about the past because the pain of loss is too much? Or would you rather have a way to remember the joy and enrichment they brought into your life?

For me, the answer is always the joy. But I know how easily memories can fade when we don't have something tangible to hold onto. We remember they were "good dogs" or "sweet cats," but we forget the exact way their ears flopped when they heard the word walk, or the specific way they looked at us when they wanted nothing more than to be close.

Why I Do This

This is the core of why I started Lucky Leash Photos.

I realized that "eventually" comes much faster than we think. I don’t want you to just have blurry cell phone shots hidden in a cloud folder. I want you to have a piece of art that captures their soul—something that, years from now, lets you look back not with a sense of "it’s over," but with a sense of "look how lucky I was to have this."

Professional photography isn't just about a pretty picture; it’s about making sure the joy they brought you stays vivid forever. It’s about honoring that 10-year (if we’re lucky) contract we sign the day we bring them home.

Capture the Now

If you’ve been putting off photos, I want to encourage you to think about the legacy you want to keep. Whether your best friend is a high-energy puppy or a senior enjoying their sunset years, let’s get those moments documented.

The time we have is short. Let’s make sure the memories are permanent.

 The Experience of Whelping a Litter

I recently watched videos of a litter of puppies we whelped. The entire process was a phenomenal and intense emotional journey, encompassing all the effort, heartbreak, and pure thrill that comes with the introduction of new life and, inevitably, the loss of some of that life.

 

🐾 History Lesson: The Dogs Came First

Long before a camera ever found its way into my hands, my attention was always—always—on the dogs. This wasn't a hobby; it was a reflex.

Seeing a stray too close to the edge of a road would send me straight into a cold panic. That sight was a demand for action: I would slam on the brakes or simply demand that the driver stop so I could get out and save the canine. Hesitation wasn't an option.

The Old Timer in the Road

One day, I spotted an old dog lying right in the middle of a paved road. I stopped instantly. He greeted me calmly, but he was clearly adrift—no sign of a home. I got him in the back seat and started ringing doorbells. Honestly, I didn't even think about his own yard; I was just operating on pure rescue adrenaline. Turns out, he belonged to the home right beside where I’d found him. Sometimes the rescue is easier than the delivery!

Collecting a Great Dane in Peril

Going back many years, there’s the story of collecting that massive Great Dane. It was a Saturday holiday, and I was assigned to a wholesale nursery. One of the growers called me over—there was an injured dog lying near his greenhouse. I was on a mission.

I found him, and it was obvious he’d been hit. I loaded that huge dog into my vehicle and drove him straight to the local humane society, thinking that was the best and fastest route to care.

It was not.

He was held there, injured, because they lacked the funding to repair him. My heart broke. I immediately launched a search, asking everyone in the community if they knew about a lost dog. Finally, a faded poster led me to a phone number. The woman on the other end explained it all: her angry lover had released the dog, and she was heartbroken.

All’s well that ends well. My mission accomplished—the dog was reunited with his owner, and I drove away knowing that my fierce commitment had saved another life. The dogs always came first.

 

Dogs Are My Happy Place

A car passes by, and sure, I see the people inside. If they’re unfamiliar, my brain briefly registers: male or female? But the second there’s a dog in that car? My entire radar snaps on in a blink. Unfamiliar humans become background noise. Why is that? Why do dogs command my attention so completely?

I have the same reaction on the street. Someone is walking a dog, and I'll naturally greet the humans, but let’s be real—it’s all about the dog that sparks my attention and moves me to genuine engagement. My greeting simply serves as a polite step toward getting closer to the good boy or girl on the leash.

Perhaps this is a normal human instinct; after all, dogs are the best. But sometimes, I feel a little… obsessive. That's why I've decided to probe a little further into my own fascination. What is it about these four-legged friends that makes everything else fade away?

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The Inevitable Subject

With this level of devotion, is it any wonder, then, that I’ve chosen to focus my photography on the one subject I can’t get enough of? DOGS! Looking back, the choice was inevitable.

On this very day, I stand proudly saying:

"Dogs are my happy place."

It’s where I find joy, focus, and a bottomless supply of heartfelt, genuine connection.