They say childhood shapes who we become, and for me, that couldn’t be more true. I was just four years old when I first picked up a camera, though I didn’t realise then that it was the beginning of a lifelong passion. What I did know was this: dogs were my everything.
My love for them was so profound that I chose to pursue a career in veterinary medicine. But life, as it often does, had other plans.
From the day I was born, I was dog mad. It might have been hereditary, or perhaps it started with our German Shepherd—a clever, patient, and fiercely loyal dog who was as much a part of the family as I was. She guarded me like a treasure, ensuring no one came too close to my pram, her protective instincts second to none. But when I was five, my mum—pregnant with my brother and overwhelmed—made the difficult decision to rehome her.
It was the first heartbreak I remember. We visited her a couple of times after she left, and even now, I can’t forget the tears in her eyes as we walked away. They say dogs don’t cry, but I’ll always believe otherwise.
After that, many dogs came into my life. Most were strays brought home by my dad, who had a habit of adopting dogs without consulting my mum. Some stayed briefly, others a bit longer, but each one left its mark. When I was eight, my dad rehomed a German Shepherd that had been chained all his life as a guard dog. From the moment he saw me, he chose me, and we were inseparable. Sadly, he was stolen just two years later, another devastating loss in my young life.
By the time I turned 12, I longed for something permanent—something of my own. For my birthday, I asked for a German Shepherd puppy. After months of pleading, and despite a lot of family resistance, my wish was granted. From the moment she came into my life, everything changed.
She was my confidante, my protector, my joy. She was there through the hardest years of my life, a steady, comforting presence who gave me strength when I felt I had none. Together, we overcame challenges, including a near-fatal battle with parvovirus when she was just over a year old. Nursing her back to health was a turning point, deepening our bond in ways I could never fully explain.
She was my everything, and losing her just shy of her 10th birthday felt like losing a piece of myself. For months, I cried myself to sleep. For years, I couldn’t bring myself to open my heart to another dog. Her absence was a void I didn’t know how to fill.
Looking back, those experiences shaped me in ways I couldn’t understand at the time. They taught me about love, loss, and resilience. They showed me the depth of the bond we share with our four-legged friends. And they led me here—to a life where I can honour that connection every day through my photography.
When I pick up my camera now, I think of her. I think of all the dogs that have been part of my story, each one a chapter in the book of my life. And this—this is where it all began.
