If you’re reading this, chances are you’ve been thinking about booking a session for your reactive dog—and you’re probably wondering what it’s actually like.
Not the polished, Instagram-highlight version. The real version.
The one where there’s worry about whether the dog will cooperate, or if they’ll be too stressed, or if the whole experience will feel like two hours of being judged because the dog can’t “just sit nicely” like other dogs seem to.
I get it. I’ve lived it with Bones, my Amstaff, who taught me more about reactivity, patience, and advocacy than any training course ever could.
So let me walk through what actually happens during a Malone Photography session—from the moment clients arrive to the moment they drive home, already excited to see their gallery.
The arrival: No pressure, just connection
When clients arrive at the session location, the first thing that happens is simple: we wave or call out to each other. That’s it. No rushing over, no big introductions, just acknowledgment that we’ve both arrived and we’re ready.
What happens next depends entirely on the dog.
If the dog isn’t a fan of strangers, I keep my distance and completely ignore them. No eye contact, no attempts to win them over, nothing that might add pressure. If the dog wants to come up to me to say hello—and the owner is comfortable with that—I’ll give them a quick cuddle and let them set the pace.
Once we’ve done the small talk (how was the drive, how’s the dog feeling today, all the usual), I let the owner know where we’re headed, what I’m thinking for the session, and how that day’s weather or light might shape what we do. My aim here is simple: I want them to know what to expect so they can relax. I want them to feel like they can let their dog explore, sniff, and settle in without feeling like the dog needs to be “on” straight away.
Because here’s the thing—if the handler is stressed, the dog knows. And if the dog’s stressed, we’re not going to get the photos that capture who they really are.
If the Dog Is Stressed from the Start
Sometimes, despite all the planning and preparation, a dog arrives and they’re just… not feeling it.
Maybe it’s the new environment. Maybe it’s me. Maybe it’s something we can’t see or predict.
And that’s okay.
If a dog is visibly stressed from the start, I let the owner know to take their time. Play with them. Do some engagement work. Let them sniff and explore. If it’s me causing the stress, I’ll walk ahead and they can follow me to where we’re headed—no pressure, no hovering, just space.
I also check in with the handler. I’ll tell them to take a deep breath, think happy thoughts, and I’ll probably crack a joke (often at my own expense) to help them relax. Because if the handler can relax, the dog has a much better chance of relaxing too.
The Flow of the Session: Led by the Dog
Every session is different, because every dog is different.
I do tend to start with a few portraits—testing the light, the location, and how the dog is feeling. But if it’s clear a dog will do better with movement first, we swap to walking, playing, and exploring photos to help them settle into the environment and get comfortable with me.
Once the dog is more relaxed, we move into posed portraits. And if the light or the moment calls for it, I’ll sometimes set up a “portrait” knowing the dog will move out of position—and I’ll just increase my shutter speed so I can still capture what I’m after without the owner stressing about keeping them still.
I’ve found that showing clients what I’ve captured in those moments helps them relax too. They realise their dog can get amazing photos, even if they’re not sitting perfectly still like a studio dog.
Directing Gently
I do tend to direct clients during sessions—where I’d like them and their dog positioned, how to adjust their hands or their body so the photo works better.
If we’re struggling to get something, I’ll show them a photo and explain what I mean. For example: “Can you see how your hand is blocking their face here? If we redo this exactly, but you use the hand away from me so your dog’s head isn’t blocked, that’s what I’d love.”
When the portraits are about the relationship between handler and dog, I start with: “Interact with your dog like you do at home.” And then I’ll offer small suggestions to improve the photo quality—moving a hand, shifting an angle—but as much as possible, I try not to intrude on that moment. I’m trying to capture the moment, not a perfectly curated version of it.
When Things Go Sideways: Running Interference
I’ve had multiple sessions where other dogs or people have tried to approach my reactive clients.
For stray dogs, I’ve shooed them away or physically grabbed them to remove them from the client’s space. I’ve also politely (but firmly) advised other owners that their dog should be on a leash—especially if we’re in an on-leash area, or if it’s clear they don’t have control of their dog.
For people who try to approach, I just tell them: “The dog won’t appreciate being approached, so please don’t.”
In every instance, clients have been relieved. One client said it perfectly:
“Anthea is awesome at managing the external environment such as off-lead dogs or unwanted people. During our session we were rushed by an off-lead dog and before I even said anything, Anthea read my mind and blocked the dog from approaching us and handled the situation in a firm, but non-confrontational manner. I felt relaxed during the session knowing as soon as I spotted something I deemed problematic, she was onto it.”
Nicole
I keep myself between clients and their dog’s triggers. I keep an eye on what’s happening around us. And I actively run interference so they don’t have to.
Reading the Dog (and the Handler)
From my background in dog training, I’m very confident in reading a dog’s body language. The position of their tail, how their tail is wagging, how they move their body—it all tells me if they’re happy, stressed, or just tolerating the session.
I also tell owners to bring treats and toys. If a handler is struggling to relax and their dog is happy to engage with me, I’ll muck around with them—which often makes the owner laugh, and suddenly we can all settle into the fun.
If a dog is more nervous than expected, I simply change my approach.
I had a Japanese Cherry Blossom session in 2025 with a dog who wasn’t happy unless both her humans were right with her. So I changed how I approached portraits of her and focused more on the family unit as a whole—their united relationship. I ended up creating some absolutely stunning images that I’m so proud of.
The “Aha” Moment
I’ve had several moments during sessions that remind me why I do this work.
It usually centres around a client with a reactive dog who’s worried I’m not getting anything nice. They’re watching their dog move, or look away, or not “pose” the way they think they should—and they’re working themselves up.
And then I show them a photo.
One example: Nilla’s mum was getting more and more worried about how Nilla was posing. I could tell she was spiralling, so I showed her a portrait of Nilla. Immediately, she said: “Oh my god, she looks amazing! I didn’t know she could pose like that!” Their whole demeanour changed. They relaxed. And the rest of the session was full of laughter and joy.
That’s the moment I’m always working toward—the moment clients realise their dog is capable of so much more than they thought, and that this session is going to give them something beautiful.
What Clients Say
Almost all of my clients have commented on how fun the session was, and how they weren’t expecting to be able to relax so easily.
For those whose dogs aren’t fans of strangers, I always get comments about how surprised they are that their dog is comfortable enough with me to approach for pets.
Before sessions, clients are often worried about their dog cooperating, whether they’ll get overwhelmed, and how they can stay safe.
Afterward, they talk about how excited they are to see the photos properly, and how happy they are that they did the session.
I’ve also had a couple of clients mention that they realise their dog is capable of so much more than they realised. And quite a few have been surprised at how their relationship looks from an external point of view—in the best possible way.
At the End of the Session
At the end of sessions, I remind clients of the process—how they’ll receive their gallery, timelines, and what happens next. If needed, I help them get organised back in the car (because let’s be honest, after two hours of focus and fun, everyone’s a bit tired).
Right at the end, we often joke about the drive home. But clients also express excitement about their gallery and how they already can’t wait to see it.
Why These Sessions Are Different
These sessions are different because the focus is on the dog having a great time and capturing beautiful photos in the process.
Other photographers I’ve worked with have such a rigid shot list that it causes more stress than necessary. If a posed portrait isn’t possible with traditional posing, I’ll try techniques where we use an object to station them, or maybe capture a fraction of a second in motion to pretend like it was a portrait. And if it’s just not working—or I can see that trying is creating more stress—I let it go.
I’d rather capture the dog as they prefer to be than tick off a specific shot list.
What These Sessions Are Really About
These sessions are about more than the finished product—they’re about having a great time capturing the moments that matter.
They’re about laughter, moments of focus, and relationships.
They’re about creating a space where reactive dogs can succeed, where handlers can exhale, and where the hard-won moments become meaningful artwork.
And that’s what makes them worth it.