Sunny - the wheelchair never slowed her down.
Sunny rolled through my mobile photo studio as if there wasn't a single obstacle in the world. Over feet, over cables, over tripod legs, just over them. A Pinscher lady with so much zest for life that I won't forget her in a hurry. The wheelchair didn't slow her down a bit, quite the opposite.
At home, Sunny shared her life with a few Chihuahuas who had obviously long since learned to make room in good time when the lady with the wheels arrived. Typical Pinscher, I would say.
Sunny is no longer alive. That's exactly why I'm talking about her.
Because if I've learned one thing in over 1,500 dogs, it's this: The pictures you are happy with the longest are often those of the dogs where someone hesitated briefly. "Oh, he's so old already." "She can hardly see anything." "It definitely won't work with him."
Yes, it will.
"She definitely doesn't dare do that"
Seeing is not necessary - the nose is enough.
Recently a woman stood with her dog at my place. A perfectly normal shoot, everything fine. While chatting, she mentions that a second dog is waiting at home. Completely blind.
"And why isn't he here?" I ask.
"I can't bring him, he can't see anything."
I always have to smile at that, because that is the most common fallacy of all. A blind dog doesn't need its eyes for my photo at all. He needs his nose, and for most of them it works perfectly right to the end. If the dog likes to eat, we've already won. That works because my glass table is not a wobbly makeshift. It's custom-made from safety glass, approved for animals up to 150 kilos. We all stand around the table, a little favorite snack, a calm voice, and the dog is in safe hands. Nobody can fall off there. Not even the one who can't see where the table ends.
One eye, full of expression.
This is how my animal photos from below are created: The dog stands on the glass table, I stand next to it and photograph through the glass. Paws, belly, this concentrated look downwards. I have photographed dogs without eyes. Dogs with one eye. Dogs on three legs. Dogs with weak hindquarters who need a little help at the back. Old gentlemen who don't want to do things the way they used to. And Sunny. Every single one of these animals made a wonderful picture. Not despite their history. But with it.
Dogs don't complain
Ida - three legs, not a bit slower.
And now comes what touches me most about these dogs: They don't care at all. A dog doesn't even know it's missing a leg. It just knows that it can still get everywhere.
You can see that best with Ida. Three legs, and yet so nimble and full of life that you forget the missing one after two minutes. She just does it. Dogs live in the here and now, they make the best of what they have, and they don't know self-pity.
And go! A missing leg? A minor matter.
A three-legged dog is a happy dog. A dog in a wheelchair is a happy dog. An old dog with a gray muzzle is a happy dog. And above all, he is what he always was: your life companion.
Getting old is the most normal thing in the world
To be honest, "no longer quite fresh" is not that rare. Around 10 million dogs live in Germany (ZZF/IVH, 2025). Internationally, it is assumed that about half of them are seven years or older, so long since in the second half of life.
How long such a dog's life lasts depends heavily on its size. A large study from 2024 with over half a million dogs comes to an average life expectancy of around 12.5 years. Small dogs are often above that, the very large ones below.
How old do dogs get? (average life expectancy in years)
That sounds like a dry number at first. But there is something very warm behind it: Every dog has its time. And it passes faster than we would like.
Cloudy eyes, stiff joints, and why that's no reason not to take a photo
The cloudier eyes that age brings.
With the years, a few things just come along. The eyes become cloudier. From about nine and a half years of age, around half of all dogs show an incipient lens opacity, by thirteen, fourteen almost everyone (Williams, 2004). The joints make themselves felt, especially in older dogs: elbows, shoulders, hips, knees.
None of this is a reason to leave the camera behind. It's the reason to get it now.
Operated on multiple times - and still here.
An old dog with a gray muzzle and a tired hip is not a "too late". It's a "right now". This picture will hang on the wall later when the bowl has long been empty and tells of a whole life. Of the gray muzzle. Of the look that only this one dog had.
The most important thing is the shoot, not the wallet
I know that such an appointment is also a question of budget. That's why I say it quite openly: The most important thing is that the dog shoot takes place at all, as long as your dog is there. I keep the pictures for ten years. So you can always order them later when it suits you better. But the photo itself is only available as long as your dog can stand in front of my camera.
And a tip that often helps: You can also have the shooting fee given as a gift. For a birthday, for Christmas, just like that. A voucher that will become priceless at some point.
So if I stop in your area with my mobile photo studio, take the chance. Bring the old dog. The blind one. The three-legged one. The one in the wheelchair. I'll take care of the rest.
Sunny would have understood that immediately. She would have just rolled over it.
And the treat? She earned it.