Hi there! I'm Kris, "Mother of Wolves" to Freki and Floki, Shieldmaiden to my Viking husband, and a standup paddle board & escape room enthusiast with a passion for capturing vibrant colors and canine connections. My two huskies, Floki and Freki, stole my heart from behind bars, and I firmly believe that rescued is the best breed!

I've been a vet tech, a zoo keeper, a tour guide and a horse trainer. But nothing feeds my soul quite like being a dog photographer. 

In college I rock-crawled my stock Jeep through Charouleau Gap with my first Husky, Shadow, riding shotgun. I closed out my 20s snuggling with rhinos and giraffes. For my 40th birthday I finished my 3rd Spartan Trifecta with a 13 mile Beast Race on the summer slopes of Telluride. And I'll take absolutely any opportunity to dress up like it's the roaring 20's, 80's or whenever.

My husband, Robbie, and I met right after college and got married on a vortex in Sedona, Arizona on 11-11-11. With his Mohawk and impressive beard he's constantly told he looks like "that guy on that show", you know the one. So I started calling him my Viking, though I'm the one most often adventuring off to new places.

Floki joined our family when he was 10 months old. I found him in the shelter, brought in as a stray. Seemed only fitting he be named after a Norse explorer. And Freki was born in a Texas shelter. When he joined our home at 8 weeks old he was so malnourished that he devoured everything we gave him so fast we had to become experts at puppy heimlich. In keeping with our Norse theme he earned the name of one of Oden's wolves, Freki, which loosely translates to Ravenous One.

Now that you know a little about me, you might be wondering what on earth lead me to become a pet photographer. Why do I do what I do? It's a common question that can make you pause and question, well, everything. Despite the notion that photographers might become obsolete with the rise of camera phones and the challenges of turning passion into profit, why choose to risk it all to capture moments with other people's dogs?

• Love for dogs
• The sheer enjoyment of the job
• Passion for visual art
• The incomparable happiness of capturing the perfect shot for a client
• A profound sense of fulfillment unlike any other job

I suppose these are all perfectly legitimate answers depending on who's asking. But recently I was nudged to go a little deeper. In exploring my purpose on this planet the question kept creeping in. ...but WHY do you do what you do? And none of my usual off the cuff answers seemed to quite quell this nagging question.

" Your why shouldn't be because of you, it should be about the people who need you" echoed in my earbuds from a Fearless Motivation track.

Then one day it echoed in my heart. I do this because I know the pain of losing a soul-dog. The kind of dog who's more than a pet. The dog who rampages into your life at warp speed and leaves you exhausted and wondering what havoc they'll wreak next. And yet you can't remember what life was without them. The only being on the planet that can wake you from a sound sleep just for attention...and you smile instead of fling a pillow.

The dog who rides shotgun, co-pilots life, and walks beside you on every twist in the road. The dog who's soft fur seems capable of soaking up an endless amount of tears when no one else is looking. The dog you'd consider bartering your own years just to buy them a few extra.

Over the years I've wept for a few soul-dogs. And in the wake of that empty place I've clung tightly to their photographs. Looked longingly into those mischievous eyes and smiled as each roused a joyful memory of that one time the dog (insert every crazy story from eating the Thanksgiving turkey to killing the dreaded sprinkler beast).

And over the years I've photographed hundreds of other peoples soul dogs. Sometimes early in their journeys, but often near the end. I can't begin to express the gravity of knowing you are a part of someone's best friend's last adventure. The last photos to carry on their soul-dogs legacy of love.

Reading the tear-filled messages from clients saying goodbye to their soul-dogs touches me so deeply. While I can't magic wand and take away their heartache, as much as I wish I could, I do find solace in hearing that the photographs capturing their beloved pet's personality provide a gentle salve for their broken hearts. Though I can't erase their pain, I'm grateful to be a part of offering support during such a difficult time.

And so I realized my why. My true, deep in my soul, no fluff WHY.

Because I don't have a magic wand, but I do have a camera. If a photo I took can ease someone's broken heart even a fraction, then that's why I will keep rolling in the mud (hoping it's mud), trudging into the frozen creek, and standing on my head to snag the perfect dog's POV.

• That's why I will keep risking fingers and camera gear to excited treat grabbers.
• That's why I will laugh off yet another black eye courtesy of a tennis ball, or frizbee, or wild puppy to the face.
• That's why I will continue prioritizing Legacy sessions over most other commitments.