My first professional dog portrait assignment was with Sasha and Daisy in 1989. My Alaska Pet-ography business license had arrived a few days earlier and the local yellow pages ad was bringing in some inquiries.

Daisy called and asked me to create a portrait of her beautiful golden retriever as a surprise for her husband who adored his doting Sasha. “I think he loves our dog more than he loves me,” she chuckled. He worked on oil fields in Prudhoe Bay and was returning home later in the day. We had an entire afternoon to create the photographs before he arrived home.

After driving up a mountain overlooking Anchorage I knew it was going to be an amazing day as I approached their home. Sasha, bathed in glowing sunlight, was standing at the edge of her driveway wagging her tail with that typical golden retriever “I want to play” smile.

After bonding for a bit, I began tossing toys in the air to perk her ears and direct her eyes toward the light with each click.  Digital did not exist at the time. I was shooting with a large format film camera. Each roll of film is enclosed in foil and a small photographic canister.

I quickly ran out of toys to toss and resorted to throwing random photography items from my camera bag. I could have photographed Sasha for hours. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that film and processing was expensive.

After two hours I was confident and excited that the session was a huge success, I packed my gear and went home beaming with pride on a job well done.

Four hours later, Daisy called me at home.

“David,” she said, “My husband came home and found an empty film canister next to our master bed.”

That seemed odd. I never went into the house much less their private bedroom. That kind of photography has never appealed to me.

The only explanation was that Sasha must have lived up to her retriever reputation by fetching a new toy (a stray film canister.) Then, she placed it with her other treasures next to her master's bedside. In this case, the large empty container of medium format film made its presence clearly known with somewhat questionable undertones.

Daisy didn't quite know how to respond to her husband when he asked why a professional film canister was sitting next to their bed. Does she let the question go unanswered, let suspicion grow or fess up and spoil the surprise?

Ultimately, Daisy told her husband about the gift and avoided the possibility of private investigators and legal proceedings.

In the end, her husband loved the portraits. And last I heard, they were still married.

It was a perfect beginning to my career as a dog photographer.