"I want your portraits on your walls."

Animals have always been the centre of my world.

I grew up on a dairy farm in New Zealand, which means I didn't just love animals from a distance, I lived alongside them every day. Dogs worked with us, horses were stabled nearby, and my dad kept racehorses. Animals weren't pets in the traditional sense; they were family, colleagues, and daily companions.

Even after moving into town, I kept that connection alive. Our dogs came with me, and the horses were stabled close by. That bond never faded; it deepened. I just didn't know yet that photography would become the way I'd honour it.

Photography started as something personal, a way to capture my holiday adventures in South America. Over time, it became clear that I had a particular instinct for it: the patience to wait for the right moment, the ability to move around an animal without unsettling it, and an eye for the small gestures; a glance, a lean, a quiet stillness, that reveal who an animal really is.

Farm roots, racing blood.

Growing up on a New Zealand dairy farm gives you an education in animals that no course can replicate. You learn their moods by instinct. You learn when to be still and when to move. You learn that trust is earned, not assumed, and that an animal that trusts you will give you something extraordinary.

My dad's racehorses were a particular influence. There's an intensity to a thoroughbred, a coiled energy and a sensitivity that teaches you to read body language fast. You can't bluff a horse. They know immediately whether you're calm or anxious, confident or hesitant.

So when I'm photographing your horse or your dog, I'm not just operating a camera. I'm drawing on a lifetime of watching, listening and understanding: everything I learned long before I ever picked up a lens.

A German Shepherd named Odin.

In 2019, I was living in North Carolina with a beautiful German Shepherd called Odin. He sparked something in me: a realisation that the bond between a person and their dog is one of the most photogenic, emotionally resonant subjects in the world, and that capturing it well is worth dedicating yourself to.

I began photographing Odin, and every session taught me something new about light, about timing, and about how to move around a dog without disrupting the very thing you're trying to capture. Great pet photography isn't about perfect poses. It's about presence, patience and connection.

Life took me back to New Zealand through the Covid years, where I kept developing the craft. Then, in August 2022, I arrived in Scotland, and the following year Wolfe & Fox Photography was born.

This is Rip.

My Dutch Herder, Rip, is the four-legged heart of Wolfe & Fox. He's intelligent, loyal, and frankly convinced that every session should revolve around him.

Rip is also a constant reminder of why this work matters. Every dog has a personality entirely their own. A way of tilting their head, holding their ears, or looking back at you that is completely unrepeatable. My job is to catch those moments before they're gone.

When clients tell me their dog is "difficult" or "won't sit still," I think of Rip. A Dutch Herder is not a dog that sits still. He's taught me that the best portraits often come from working with the animal's energy, not against it.

A session with Wolfe & Fox

Let's create something worth keeping forever.

Tell me about your horse or dog: who they are, where they're happiest, and what you'd love on your walls. No forms, no pressure, just a conversation.