My Dog Nikon

As a pet photographer who photographs dogs more often than any other species, I’m often asked, “What kind of dog do you have?” Until recently, it’s been a tough question to answer. While we’ve always had foster dogs at our animal hospital, I didn’t have a dog that was a full time pet. I DO have five cats, a parrot, a Koi pond and a turtle at home but somehow that wasn’t the answer many of my dog owning clients expected. My not having a dog seemed somehow odd to them. Frankly it seemed odd to me as well.

Because of the pets already residing at my home AND my work and travel schedule, I felt it would be irresponsible to add a dog to the mix. As much as I wanted one, I had to consider the needs of all involved. How would the cats react? How would a dog react to that many feisty felines? Would it be fair to a dog to leave him alone on those long workdays? Would it be fair to have a dog, knowing I would need to board him frequently in our boarding facility? As much as I wanted a dog, would it be selfish for me to get one?

Logic, a sense of responsibility, and restraint, all prevailed for a long time. Of course I came across dogs over the years that were fantastic and needed a home. Many were adopted through our clinic into wonderful caring families. I put my camera to use photographing dogs in need to help promote their adoption. I was more than satisfied knowing I played my small part.

In late January, while driving at dusk along a rural road, my heart sank and I held my breath. A dog was dodging traffic, looking lost and frightened. I caught sight of him when he appeared from in front of a moving car and immediately laid down on the side of the road. I thought he’d been hit. I pulled over and approached him. Once along side of him, he sat up, leaned against my leg, and started licking my hand. Right then, at that very moment, this dog stole my heart. He hadn’t been hit. He was just alone and scared, grateful someone stopped.

There were no homes in sight. He didn’t have a collar or tags. It was a Sunday evening so no shelters or nearby animal hospitals would be available to check him for a chip. There was no way I could leave him there. What to do? I looked him over. His skin was a mess. He had weeping sores all over his chest and underbelly (clearly a whopping case of mange). His ears were a mess too. Saying he smelled awful is an understatement. I mean this dog reeked. I don’t even know how to describe the odor. All the while, he’s giving me kisses and submitting happily to my roadside exam. Oh well, time to load this smelly dirty dog into my brand new van. So much for the new car smell. My parents were with me. They know me well and didn’t even raise an eyebrow. I suspect they knew he was coming along for the ride before I knew it.

During the two-hour ride home, he mostly slept on my camera bag, his nose resting on the Nikon camera strap that was hanging out. Wanting to call him something other than dog, I figured “Nikon” was as good a temporary name as any. I called my husband (a veterinarian) and informed him this would be a working Sunday night for him (I’ll bet any amount of money he rolled his eyes the moment I said “I found a dog”). Between his office hours and the zoo we call a home, the poor guy is never really off duty. After arriving home and saying goodnight to my parents, my husband and I took Nikon to our animal hospital. We gave him a good meal, made sure he didn’t have any medical issues that couldn’t wait until morning, then got him settled into a nice comfy bed in our boarding kennel.

The next morning, a complete medical exam was done. Sure enough, he had a horrible case of mange complete with sores oozing pus. He also had ear infections and intestinal parasites. Thankfully and surprisingly, his heartworm test was negative. So began his long treatment. Some of his medical issues were quickly resolved with medication. His treatment for mange would take months. I decided it would be best to keep him at the clinic until all his treatment was completed. Then, we could think about his future.

To keep this long story from getting even longer, I’ll cut to the chase. Nikon has fully recovered from all of his medical issues. During his time at the clinic, he proved he could be trusted around cats. He adores everyone and everything. All he wants to do is play. He has been working out great as a studio assistant on shoots, helping other dogs to relax in front of the camera. He’s also becoming a great model for editorial shoots. He’s accustomed to staying at the office and has many friends there. That means boarding isn’t a big deal. After a month at home with us, he hasn’t eaten any cats, hasn’t shredded any furniture, has learned several tricks (in addition to the basic commands he learned while at the office), and is making himself right at home. I’m not saying we won’t have some speed-bumps ahead. I will say my new dog Nikon is the perfect dog for me.

I guess the moral of the story here is that logic often takes a back seat when it comes the pets that find their way into our families. Some things are just meant to be. I think Nikon knew the moment we met he was supposed to be my dog. It took me (and my husband) a little longer to understand there really wasn’t a decision to be made. He was coming home to live with us.

Here he is helping me on the set.

I was playing around with a little point and shoot camera, trying to modify the built in flash so it wouldn’t look so harsh.  Nikon, asleep on the couch made a perfect test model.