Just Beyond the Frame

In December of 2013, I began volunteering at the local animal shelter by taking pictures of the adoptable dogs.  Due to changes in our childcare, I was forced to drag Skyler to the shelter with me on picture day every week instead of going at it alone.  Well, it was actually a little less "dragging" and a little more "holding back," but nevertheless, the two of us wandered through the kennels together choosing small dogs that needed to be photographed and were gentle enough to interact with my four-year-old.

Skyler absolutely loves animals and has no concept of what a dog might be capable of if they are scared or uncomfortable in a situation, so we had the "No hands in cages...EVER," conversation before we went for the first time.  Still, saying that it was overwhelming at first would be an understatement.  It was incredibly challenging to collect a single dog from a kennel without releasing the other dogs, while Skyler squealed with delight and jumped around, while the barks of 20+ dogs are bouncing off the center block walls making it impossible to think let alone shout directions, while the just-released dog is darting back and forth on the end of the leash terrified and unsure of which direction to run, while thoughts are racing through my head about Skyler's safety and every possible danger that could be lurking just around the corner in an instance... that pretty much sets the scene.

 

Something was missing in my pictures.  The dogs weren't connecting with me.

 

The first couple weeks were daunting and exhausting until Skyler and I found our routine.  Without needing to shout directions now, I find the dog we need to photograph, she stands a few feet off within sight but out of the way, and then we take the dog into the outdoor play area for pictures.

Around the second or third session, being quite pleased with the pictures I had been capturing, I began noticing a common thread and a difference between the faces of the dogs I had shot alone versus the faces  of the dogs I was shooting now.  I had been zooming in tight around the dogs, so I decided to open up the pictures a bit and capture some of the "action" going on just out of view, and what I began seeing touched my heart.

The first photo session that I shot on my own never quite had the "feel" I had been desiring.  Chock it up to beginner troubles, but it felt like something was missing.  Though I love dogs, they were unsure of me and remained aloof.  I couldn't seem to connect with them whether it was due to my unfamiliar scent or my being distracted with the camera.

Once Skyler entered the equation, that all changed.

At first, I wanted her close by my side while the dog was running around the play area.  I wanted her tucked away so she wouldn't interfere with my shot and I wanted her out of harm's way.  After all, these dogs are mostly from troubled or unknown backgrounds, but they were all attracted to her.  I call it the Little Human Effect.

She began playing with the dogs.  They were much more willing to approach her than they were to me because I'm that crazy lady that keeps shoving the black clicking thing in their faces, and what I saw was like magic!

The dogs' faces were lighting up.  They were coming out of their shells.  They were much more willing to shake off their uncertainties for my happy-go-lucky child.  Looking back, I wish I had tried less to zoom in on just the dog and tried more to capture the entire scene because that was where the magic was happening.

Skyler has an honest connection to these dogs and seems to bring out the best in each one.  This week, we had a shy little baby who ran from me every time the shutter on my camera clicked, however, she would follow Skyler's directions like they had been training together for weeks.  She connected with Skyler instantly, and I believe the pictures speak for themselves.

If I had been focused solely on what I was there to photograph I would have been missing these precious moments.  Last night, as I flipped through the pictures with Skyler's hand on the dog, or her boot foot in the frame, I would have ordinarily tossed them out since they couldn't be used for the shelter's purposes.  But, this time I saved them, and I'm so glad I did.

I see a kind heart and a genuine spirit that animals respond to.  I see a love that needs to be nurtured.  I see a quality that should be cherished and could one day develop into a talent that changes the world.

As a parent, I should be less focused on "What I'm there to do," and use the situation as a teaching moment that not only develops my daughter's heart, but also makes for some really great pictures that I would have otherwise missed.

Sometimes, I become so focused on what I want to see through the view finder that I'm shoving Skyler into the background and getting irritated without thinking about how it affects her.  It was, and still is, a common mistake on my part, and one that I deeply regret.

Sometimes the pictures are slightly unflattering (aka closed eyes, booty shots, princess boots in the frame of an otherwise perfect photo) but from now on I will be saving every shot I have with her in it even if the picture can't be used for the animal shelter's site.

BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE THE MAGIC HAPPENS.

This is where Skyler's learning about the love of animals, she's learning how to adapt herself to the needs of that particular dog, she's learning how to be kind, she's loving life, and she's being a kid, which is all too often devalued these days.  No longer will I crop her out of every frame.  I'm going to be a more patient parent, and I'm going to document these small and otherwise unnoticed achievements.

I have no way of knowing which moment might mold the rest of her life.

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www.AshleyGesslerSHD.com