What I’m Focusing on in 2026 as an Atlanta Dog Photographer (Inspired by an 8-Pound Truck Thief)

I’d just returned from Italy, busy unpacking suitcases of laundry to be done, and my phone rings.

It’s my father-in-law.

He sounds… annoyed. Amused. Slightly betrayed.

He’d borrowed my truck while Renee and I were out of town, and this morning he stopped at the gas station to fill it up on the way back to me. Very normal, responsible grown-up behavior.

Except mid-fill-up, he notices something strange.

The truck windows are rolling down.
Then rolling back up.
Then down again.

For a second, he thinks my truck, admittedly older as a 2004 model, is having an electrical breakdown. 

Nope.

It’s Dixie.

Dixie, his eight-pound poodle mix — tiny, ferocious, and apparently now in charge of the window electric slide show.

While he’s outside holding the gas pump, she’s inside joyfully tap dancing across the door buttons. Power windows are her new favorite game.

By the time he finishes pumping gas and goes to get back in, he realizes:

• The truck is still running.

• The windows are up.

• Dixie is inside.

• He is very much not.

At some point during her window slide show, she also managed to lock the doors.

So now we’ve got:

• Truck: running

• Heat: on

• Dixie: cozy in the driver’s seat, wearing the smuggest grin you’ve ever seen

• Bob: stranded outside, talking to an eight-pound dictator through the glass
  

Dixie: 1 Bob: 0

And here’s the best part:

The moment you want Dixie to step on the unlock button?

She’s exhausted from her earlier dance moves and is snoozing in a little fuzzy ball snoozing peacefully.

Our little Power Window Prodigy is suddenly “I have never touched a button in my life.”

So my father-in-law is tapping on the window cajoling Dixie to wake up & dance again while waiting for a locksmith. Dixie is snoozing in my truck like it’s her king sized bed at the Four Seasons.

And I’m on the phone thinking:

Of course this is happening.
Of course the dog is the one in control.
Of course this will now be a core family story forever.

Because that’s what dogs do:

They push our buttons — literally and emotionally.
They derail our plans.
And they give us the kind of stories we retell for years.

What This Has to Do With My Work in 2026

You don’t need a photo of Dixie smiling at you through the locked truck window.

What you do want is a piece of artwork on your wall that captures that exact self satisfied grin in a way that fits beautifully into your home.

So every time you walk past it, you see:

• A gorgeous, intentional image that matches your style and space

• And you remember:

• The running truck

• The locked doors

• The slightly frazzled human at pump #3

• The eight-pound dog who temporarily stole the vehicle

On the surface, it’s art.

Underneath, it’s the whole story. Your life together. The anecdotes you tell over and over. The memories that define your relationship.

That’s the connection point between Dixie at the gas station and what I’m focusing on this year — not just as a business owner, but as an artist.

Here’s what I’m leaning into in 2026.

1. Artwork That Tells the Truth About Your Life

This year, I care less than ever about “perfect dog” photos.

I care about honest ones:

• The dog who runs your house

• The dog who steals your spot on the couch

• The dog who would absolutely lock you out of your own car and grin about it

I’m focusing on creating artwork that:

• Looks like it belongs in a magazine

But feels like a private joke between you and your dog

The pose may be polished.
The lighting may be soft and cinematic.
The frame might be stunning.

But the expression? That’s your Dixie’s grin. Your “this dog is trouble and I love it”.

2. Your Home as a Gallery of Your Real Stories

I’m also doubling down on what lives on your walls, not just in your gallery link.

In 2026, my focus as a business owner is:

• More wall art planning

• More album design

• More intention around: Where does this image live in your home? What story will it tell there?

Because the point isn’t: “Here’s a cute picture of my dog.”

The point is:

“That’s the face she made the day she locked Dad out of the truck.”
“That’s his ‘I just stole the ball and I’m not giving it back’ look.”
“That’s exactly how she looks at me and makes everything better after the longest day.”

Anyone else sees a beautiful piece of art. You see your life.

3. Working Like an Artist and a Business Owner

Behind the scenes, I’m also shifting how I work.

This year, I’m focusing on:

• Fewer, deeper sessions
  So I can pour more time into each client — planning, shooting, designing, and installing artwork that truly fits your space and your stories. There are just 35 Signature Sessions available for ALL of 2026 - reach out if you want your name on one of those dates.

• Protecting my energy and health
  So when I’m with you and your dog, you’re getting the very best of my brain, my creativity, and my attention.

• Growing as an artist, not just a “photo-taker”
  Entering competitions, studying light and color, traveling to Iceland for an incredible dog photography retreat, experimenting with new ideas — all in service of making your dog’s portraits feel like art, not just images.

I used to think of myself only as a business person who happens to be good with a camera. Now I’m intentionally claiming both:

• I am a business owner.

• I am an artist.

Because, the dogs — your dogs — deserve both.

4. Saying “No” to Perfect, “Yes” to Personal

So here’s my lens for 2026:

• Not “Is this flawless?”

• But “Is this them?”

Not: “Will Instagram like this?”

But: “Will this still make you smile in 10 years when you walk past it on your way to the kitchen?”

Because the real magic isn’t that I can get a dog to look at the camera.

It’s that I can take the feeling of standing in a gas station parking lot, staring at an eight-pound dictator through a locked truck window — and turn that energy into art that hangs in your home.

Not literally that moment.
But that grin. That attitude. That relationship.

What This Means If You’re Thinking About Photos This Year

If you’re planning for 2026 and wondering whether this is the year to finally do a session, here’s what I want you to know:

• I’m not here to judge your dog’s training level.

• I’m not here to stage a fake version of your life.

• I’m here to notice the small, ridiculous, wonderful things that make your dog your dog — and translate that into artwork that honestly belongs in your home.

If you’ve got your own version of Dixie:

• The dog who runs the house

• The dog with the “yep, I did that” grin

• The dog you tell stories about at dinner

This is who I’m creating for this year.

If that’s you, I’d love to work together.

Let’s start planning artwork that tells your favorite dog stories — the ones you’ll still be laughing about long after the locksmith goes home.