What if my cat or dog won’t pose for their photoshoot?

Let’s be honest…dogs can ricochet around the room like they’ve just had three espressos, and cats can quietly disappear into thin air for hours.

So if you’re considering a pet portrait here in Wellington, how can I be sure none of that will derail photo day?

Well, because as a dedicated cat mum (and enthusiastic dog aunty), I can list, off the top of my head, all the things that could go wrong if I were preparing my own animals for a shoot. But more importantly, I also know them well enough to start thinking creatively about how to work with their personalities rather than against them.

And because you’re here reading this, I already know something about you too.

Casual pet owners just don’t commission portraits. This is reserved only for the people who quietly regard their pet as one of their favourite beings.

Which means you know your animal inside and out too!

All we need to do is combine what you know with what I know.

Every pet has their quirks. Their rhythms, their tells, and their “absolutely not” moments.

Once you fill me in on the ins and outs of your little guy or girl, we can start hatching a plan for photo day that feels thoughtful rather than stressful.

Here’s an example using my own cat.

Her quirks and character:

She loves being where the people are. If there’s movement or conversation, she wants to be nearby. But the moment she senses you’re about to proactively pick her up? She’s gone. Absolute blur. You will not catch her.

And once you’ve tipped her off, she’ll remain mildly suspicious of you for the next hour or so.

If you do manage to pick her up, you’ve got roughly one minute before she wriggles free. The one exception? If I hold her like a baby– on her back, tummy exposed, fully stretched out. She melts. Completely relaxed. (Adorable… though admittedly not her most beauty-worthy portrait pose.)

To pick her up successfully without triggering her internal alarm system, I have to act as though I’m going nowhere. If I’m taking her out, the carry bag gets unzipped the day before. I can’t shower immediately beforehand. Absolutely no perfume. Any deviation from routine and she knows.

One thing she can’t resist (provided she’s not already on alert) is a warm body. If I lie down on the couch, she’ll inevitably come and settle on top of me. That’s my window. When the moment feels right, I make the move to snatch her. I don’t get a second chance.

There are also environmental tricks. Boxes strategically placed. A high perch so she can survey the room. A semi-enclosed nook with one open side where she feels secure enough to tuck herself in.

Treats? Completely useless. She’s highly sensitive to the catnip in most of them and becomes overstimulated and hissy. Not exactly the expression we’re going for.

So based on all of that (yes, she’s not the easiest client), here’s how I’d approach it:

1. Prepare the environment in advance.
I’d either make or source a clear acrylic box that I could shoot through; something she’d naturally want to climb into, but that also gives the camera a clear view of her..

2. Set up a contained, distraction-managed space.
A smaller room in the house with minimal furniture she can disappear under. Inside that room I’d place:

• A feather wand

• A recording of birds ready to go on my phone

• The clear box

• An elevated perch

• A “nook” created from three dining chairs

• A laser pointer

• A couch draped with a plain blanket

• Snacks and drinks (morale for the humans)

Everything prepared before she enters the room.

3. Use what I know about her timing.
About an hour beforehand, I’d lie down on the couch and pretend to be having a lazy phone scroll. Inevitably, she’d come and settle on top of me. When she falls asleep, that’s my window to gently pick her up and relocate her into the prepared room.

4. Manage entry carefully.
When the photographer arrives (I’m not the photographer in this scenario), they’d be led quietly into the room, being careful to not let the cat escape.

5. Work as a team.
My role would be to direct her attention; feathers to guide her gaze, calling her name, laser pointer to encourage movement , while the photographer focuses purely on capturing the moments.

6. Let her move between “zones.”
She’ll likely rotate naturally between the perch, the box, and the nook. Rather than forcing a single pose, we’d photograph her as she transitions between them.

7. Have a reliable fallback.
If needed, I can always lie back on the couch with the plain  blanket on top of me serving as a backdrop. She’ll almost certainly come and sit on me.

8. And if all else fails (unlikely)…
I can briefly hold her in position and edit myself out of the photo’s later.

So that’s just one example of how the plan all falls into place–  and she is, objectively, a tricky customer.

The truth is, I don’t always know in advance exactly which trick will be the one that gets “the shot.” But when you combine preparation, observation, and patience, it somehow always comes together.

Over the years, other simple strategies that have worked beautifully include:

• Photographing dogs with their leashes on to hold them in place, and editing them out afterwards.

• Having cats or dogs held by their mum or dad, and then removing the human later… or sometimes realising you quite like the image with you in it.

• Having one person behind the photographer directing attention such as throwing a ball, holding treats, clicking fingers, calling their name. If you’ve ever struggled to photograph your own pet, just know: having two people makes an enormous difference.

• Taking your dog for a long walk beforehand so they arrive to set settled rather than highly energized.

• Placing your cat or dog’s favourite chair or bed directly within the lighting setup so they choose the “set” voluntarily.
  

None of this is about forcing an animal to perform.

It’s about stacking the odds gently in our favour using what they already love, what already feels safe, and what you already know about them.

And if something doesn’t work? We adapt.

That’s the part people don’t see; the quiet problem-solving happening in the background!

Every Wellington pet portrait I create begins with a thoughtful artwork planning session, which is where we’ll create the plan to capture your pet. You can read more about this here

There’s one final piece of putting a plan together to take some great shots that has nothing to do with your pet… and everything to do with you:

Just remember to relax. We can take our time! There’s no need to fret about whether we’ll “get the shot” at exactly the right moment.

If your dog gets the zoomies, we pause.
If your cat decides the world is overstimulating and needs a reset, we pause.

We can make a cup of tea. We can sit on the floor. We can wait.

That’s also why I never book another session on the same day as yours. If we need to take our time, we take our time. There’s no clock ticking in the background.

Animals aren’t props. They’re little personalities with their own rhythms.

The job isn’t to force them into submission for a photograph.
It’s to meet them where they are, and capture something real when the moment opens up.

And it always does.

So if you’re in Wellington quietly wondering whether your “too energetic” dog or “too grumbly” cat could ever manage to pose for a lovely portrait — they absolutely can.