When the Dog Is Perfect but the Human Needs Training

How to manage overenthusiastic owners during a pet photography session without losing your patience or your sanity.

We've all heard the saying that you should never work with children or animals. Personally, I think they've got it backwards. The animals are usually the easy part. It's the humans who can occasionally make things interesting!

Recently, I asked the photographers in my Facebook group what they found most challenging about photographing animals in the studio. I was expecting the usual suspects. Black dogs disappearing into the shadows, dogs who refuse to look towards the light, or cats who take one look at your beautifully prepared set and decide they'd rather lick their own backside.

But one response made me laugh.

The photographer said their biggest challenge was when the dog was doing absolutely everything they asked, but the owner was being so overbearing that the whole session descended into chaos. Apparently, it took considerable self-control not to facepalm.

And I suspect quite a few pet photographers can relate.

Interestingly, this isn't something I tend to struggle with in my own studio. That's not because I've somehow been blessed with a clientele of exceptionally well-behaved humans. I think it's largely because of how I structure my sessions, the expectations I establish before anyone arrives, and the fact that I have an experienced animal handler working alongside me.

So, let's talk about how to manage the other end of the lead.

Why owners feel the need to help

Before we start getting frustrated with owners, it's worth considering why they're behaving that way in the first place.

Most people arrive at a photography session wanting their pet to be on their absolute best behaviour. They've invested time and money, they're excited about the photographs, and they want everything to go perfectly. They may also be worried that their dog is going to embarrass them by behaving like a complete pork chop.

So, when their dog doesn't immediately sit, stay or look in the right direction, they jump in.

They start repeating commands, waving treats, clicking their fingers, calling the dog's name or apologising profusely because apparently their normally angelic Labrador has forgotten every bit of training it's ever received.

And the more anxious the owner becomes, the more involved they tend to get.

From their perspective, they're helping. From ours, they're potentially creating a very confused animal who's trying to work out which of the three people shouting its name it should be paying attention to.

The trick is to prevent that situation from developing in the first place.

Set expectations before the camera comes out

I think one of the most important things you can do as a pet photographer is establish how your session will work before you start photographing.

Clients aren't mind readers. They don't necessarily know that having several people giving their dog instructions can make things more difficult, or that constantly calling their pet's name can actually reduce the chances of getting the expression you're after.

So tell them.

During my consultation process, I explain how we work with the animals, what the session will involve and what I'll need from the owner. By the time they arrive for their photography session, they already have a reasonable understanding of what to expect.

One thing I make particularly clear is that the session isn't a test of their dog's obedience or their ability as an owner.

I don't expect their dog to behave like a perfectly trained movie star, and I'm certainly not there to judge anyone's training skills. I've photographed enough animals to know that even the most beautifully trained dog can walk into an unfamiliar environment and temporarily forget everything it's ever learnt.

That's perfectly normal.

I think this reassurance is more important than we sometimes realise. Owners can become overbearing because they're embarrassed or worried that their dog is letting them down. If you remove that pressure before the session even begins, they're far less likely to feel the need to intervene every time their dog does something unexpected.

And once they're in the studio, I reinforce that.

I want clients to know that they can relax, enjoy watching their pet and leave the actual photography to us. If I need their help, I'll ask for it.

That last part is important because it gives them permission to stop feeling responsible for everything their animal does.

You'd be surprised how many owners seem relieved when they realise they don't have to spend the entire session trying to convince their dog to behave.

Confidence makes a difference

Animals aren't the only ones who respond to confidence.

When someone walks into your studio, they're trusting you with something incredibly precious to them. They want to know that you understand their animal, that you can handle whatever happens and that they're going to get beautiful photographs at the end of it.

If you appear unsure, hesitant or constantly ask the owner what you should do next, it's only natural that they might feel the need to take charge.

That's why I think confidence is such an important part of managing a photography session.

And I don't mean being bossy or acting like you know absolutely everything. I mean being calm, giving clear instructions and demonstrating that there's a plan, even when the dog has decided to introduce a few creative variations of its own.

If I need an owner to move somewhere, I'll tell them where I'd like them to stand and explain why. If I need them to stop calling their dog, I'll explain that I'm trying to capture a particular expression and that having one person directing the animal will make things much easier.

It's not about telling people off. It's about taking the lead in a way that makes everyone feel comfortable.

The more confident and organised you appear, the less likely clients are to feel that they need to manage the session for you.

The best investment I've made? An experienced animal handler

I honestly can't overstate the value of having a good animal handler in the studio.

While I'm concentrating on lighting, composition, camera settings and the expressions I want to capture, my handler is focused on the animal.

They're helping with positioning, rewarding behaviours, keeping the dog engaged and making sure the entire experience remains positive.

And because there's already someone clearly responsible for working with the animal, the owner can see that their help isn't required unless we specifically ask for it.

It creates a much calmer environment.

It also means we're not relying on the owner to understand the nuances of what we're trying to achieve photographically. They might know how to get their dog to sit, but that doesn't necessarily mean they know how to position the dog's head towards the light while keeping its ears forward and its expression engaged.

Those are two very different skills.

But there's another reason I think having an experienced handler is so valuable, and it has just as much to do with the client experience as it does with the photography.

When clients arrive and see that there are two experienced people working together, each with a clearly defined role, it immediately communicates a level of professionalism.

They're not walking into a situation where one person is trying to juggle the camera, lighting, treats, toys and an excitable Labrador while simultaneously reassuring the owner that everything is under control.

They can see that we've thought about how the session should run, that their pet's comfort and safety are priorities, and that there's a proper process behind what we do.

For someone investing in professional artwork of their pet, I think that matters enormously.

It's also something worth communicating when you're marketing your photography business. Having an experienced animal handler isn't just a practical convenience. It's part of the service you're providing, and it helps clients understand the difference between a professional pet photography experience and simply having someone take a few photographs of their dog.

Of course, not everyone has the luxury of working with a dedicated handler, particularly when they're starting out. But even if you're photographing alone, you can still establish who's giving the animal instructions and what role the owner will play.

Sometimes that means asking the owner to help with a very specific task. Other times, it means giving them a chair and telling them to enjoy the show.

Give the owner a job, or permission to do absolutely nothing

If you have an owner who simply cannot resist getting involved, sometimes the easiest solution is to give them something useful to do.

Rather than having them hovering beside you and offering a running commentary on their dog's behaviour, ask them to stand in a particular position, hold a treat ready for when you need it, or help with a specific cue.

The key is making sure the task is clear and controlled.

For example, if I'm trying to get a dog to look towards a particular point, I don't want its owner wandering around the studio waving a squeaky toy like they're directing aircraft onto a runway.

I'd rather say something like, "Can you stand just behind me and wait until I ask you to call their name? I only want to use that trick once or twice so we get a really lovely expression."

Now they know exactly what to do, when to do it and why.

Alternatively, if the owner doesn't need to be involved, tell them that too.

Something as simple as, "You're off duty for this bit. We've got everything under control, so you can sit back and enjoy watching," can work wonders.

You're not excluding them. You're making the experience easier for everyone.

What if they keep interfering anyway?

Occasionally, despite your best efforts, you'll encounter someone who just can't help themselves.

They continue giving commands, interrupting your handler or getting frustrated because their dog isn't doing exactly what they want.

This is where I think it's important to address the behaviour early rather than letting your own frustration build.

You don't need to be confrontational. In fact, a little humour can be incredibly useful.

You might say, "I think we've got too many directors on set! Let's give him one person to listen to and see how we go."

Or, "He's actually doing beautifully. I know it's tempting to help, but I promise we've got this."

Then redirect their attention to something positive. Show them a lovely photograph on the back of the camera, explain what you're trying to achieve or point out something their pet has done particularly well.

Often, once owners can see that things are progressing, they relax.

If they don't, you may need to be a little more direct. Particularly if their involvement is making the animal stressed or confused.

And that's something I won't compromise on. The animal's welfare comes before the photograph, regardless of how enthusiastic the owner might be.

Sometimes the owner knows something you don't

Now, before we get too carried away with the idea that owners should sit quietly in a corner, there's an important distinction to make.

The owner knows their animal in ways that we don't.

They know what frightens them, what motivates them, which behaviours are normal and when something isn't quite right.

That information is incredibly valuable.

If an owner tells me their dog is becoming uncomfortable, I'm going to listen. If they explain that a particular sound frightens their dog, I'm not going to dismiss it because I've successfully used that sound with another hundred animals.

There's a big difference between an owner interfering with the photographic process and an owner advocating for their animal.

Our job is to recognise that difference.

A good session should be collaborative, but that doesn't mean everyone needs to be directing the animal at the same time.

And what about photographers who work alone?

If you don't have an animal handler, I'd suggest starting with three things.

First, establish the rules of engagement before the session begins. Explain that you'll direct the photography and that you'll let the owner know when you need their assistance. Make it clear that their dog isn't expected to perform perfectly and that you're accustomed to working with animals who have their own ideas about how the session should proceed.

Second, keep instructions simple. If you're asking the owner to help, give them one task at a time rather than expecting them to understand everything you're trying to achieve.

And finally, be prepared to stop photographing for a moment if things become chaotic. There's no point taking another fifty photographs of a confused dog while everyone talks over one another.

Reset, explain what you're trying to do and start again.

You can also encourage owners to practise a few simple behaviours at home before their appointment, particularly if you're planning to use particular poses. But remember that performing a behaviour in the living room and performing it in an unfamiliar studio are two very different things.

And if you find yourself regularly struggling to manage both the animal and the camera, it might be time to consider bringing someone in to help.

Even having an experienced assistant for certain sessions can make an enormous difference. And when you do, don't be afraid to tell prospective clients about it. The way you structure your sessions, prioritise animal welfare and manage the experience is part of what makes your service valuable.

Ultimately, we're photographing someone's family member

It's easy to get frustrated when a session isn't going to plan, especially when you know the animal is perfectly capable of doing what you're asking.

But I think it's worth remembering that the owner isn't standing there trying to sabotage your photographs.

They're usually excited, nervous, protective or simply trying to be helpful.

When you establish expectations, demonstrate confidence and give everyone a clear role, most of those problems disappear before they even begin.

And perhaps most importantly, when clients understand that they don't need to prove anything about their dog's behaviour, they can stop worrying about whether their pet is being good enough and actually enjoy the experience.

If you can create an environment where the owner feels comfortable, the animal feels safe and you're free to concentrate on your photography, everyone wins.


If you'd like to learn more about how I structure my photography sessions, manage both the animals and their humans, and create an experience that clients genuinely enjoy, we'll be covering all of this in my Poses, Pixels, Paws & Profit workshops in the USA in April 2027.

Because being a successful pet photographer isn't just about knowing your lighting, camera settings and how to get a dog to sit. It's about creating an experience where your clients feel confident in you, their animals are comfortable, and everyone can relax and enjoy the process.

We'll be getting into all of that, along with plenty of practical studio photography and the business side of turning those lovely photographs into profitable artwork.

You can find out more about my upcoming US workshops here.

 
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