About Edmonton Pet Photography
I photograph dogs because I know what these photos become later.
They are not just nice pictures. They are memory anchors. They are proof of a season of life you may not realize you are going to miss until it has already changed.
A house where photos mattered.
I grew up in a house where photos mattered. Not in a precious, everything-needs-to-look-perfect kind of way. More in a "this is part of the family record" kind of way.
My parents took photos, made home videos, labelled albums, wrote dates and names on the backs of prints, and kept everything organized. Birthdays, visits, relatives, ordinary afternoons, kids growing up, dogs in the background, people gathered in a living room. It all had a place.
That shaped me more than I realized at the time.
My dad was an early adopter of video cameras, so there are home videos of me from when I was very small. He would set the scene, have someone say who was there and why we were gathered, then pan across the room and let the camera roll for a few minutes.
Nothing dramatic. Just life happening.
I think that is where my love of visual storytelling really started. Not with perfect poses. Not with performance. Just little pieces of real life preserved well enough that they could bring everything else back with them.
Working quickly, watching for moments, and finding the story.
My career in visual work started with video.
I taught myself editing before YouTube existed, worked in internet broadcasting, helped build and shoot online video productions, and spent years around cameras, live events, red carpets, interviews, sports, entertainment, and commercial projects.
I learned how to work quickly, watch for moments, solve problems, and find the story inside a moving scene.
Photography came later, and honestly, it humbled me at first.
I had spent years around video cameras, but still photography asked something different of me. Shutter speed, light, timing, focus, lenses, movement, expression. I had to learn the science behind the art.
Eventually, it clicked.
I started shooting events in Las Vegas, then headshots and commercial photography in Vancouver, and later brought that experience back home to Edmonton.
Dogs are fast, funny, expressive, unpredictable, and completely themselves.
Once I started photographing my own dogs, I realized I loved it more than anything else I had photographed.
There is something special about catching a dog mid-run, eyes bright, ears flying, fully alive in the moment. It is joyful, chaotic, funny, technical, and emotional all at once.
That became Edmonton Pet Photography.
I started the business in 2015 after realizing there were only a few people in Edmonton focused specifically on pet photography. I had the camera experience, the technical background, the love of dogs, and the belief that these photos deserved to be treated as something more than quick snapshots.
In the years since, I have photographed more than 350 dogs: every age, every temperament, every season, and every level of cooperation.
Which is to say, I have seen a lot.
The nervous dogs. The wild ones. The seniors. The puppies. The dogs who want nothing to do with sitting still. The dogs who need a little time before they trust me. The dogs who arrive ready for their close-up.
I love all of it.
These photos become more important with time.
When I lost my own dog in February 2026, the work took on a different meaning.
I understood, in a much deeper way, what these photos become after a dog is gone.
They are not just images. They bring back the sound of their paws, the way they looked at you, the places you walked together, the routines you built around them, and the version of your life where they were still right beside you.
That is why I came back to this work with more purpose.
Today, Edmonton Pet Photography is about creating beautiful, honest, lasting images of dogs and the people who love them.
Sometimes that means action photos in a park. Sometimes it means quiet portraits. Sometimes it means capturing a senior dog exactly as they are, with all the dignity, sweetness, and history they carry.
My goal is simple: to help you remember.
Because one day, these photos will matter more than they do right now.
They will become part of your home, part of your story, and part of how you keep loving them.
Ready to make something worth remembering?
Whether your dog is young, grey-faced, chaotic, shy, fast, slow, or somewhere in between, the goal is the same: honest, beautiful photos that feel like them.