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Author Archive: "Carli Davidson"

Puppies for Sale? Read This First

Shake Puppies contains an almost unsettling amount of cuteness. There is a good chance after looking through its pages you will get puppy fever and be thrown into an unwavering quest for your next pet. Here is my sound advice if you are indeed afflicted by this condition:

Rescue your next dog! Hear me say it. Hear me say it in a self-righteous and possibly annoying voice. Picture me holding a picket sign in front of any pet store that sells dogs. A sign that reads "IF YOU SHOP HERE, YOU SUPPORT PUPPY MILLS," and I'm screaming at you like a zealot with spit flying this way and that.

Put on some headphones blasting Sarah McLachlan and walk into the Oregon Humane Society. If you don't start freaking bawling and wanting to take every animal home, then register with the local authorities as a bona fide sociopath. Cruise Petfinder like a dog creep and email profiles to your family while you are supposed to be finishing that TPS report.

Think about the time in your life you were most down on your luck, down on life, ...


Hallmark Greeting Cards? Hell Yeah!

I froze the first time my little sister Andi suggested to me I would be good at pet photography. It was the mid-'90s. I was 16 and bald by choice, with a smattering of bad piercings. Vividly in my mind, a sun-bleached image of a spaniel in a wicker basket among impossibly green grass popped up, enhanced by some terrible circular filter. Not a chance.

Sure, the first series I ever shot was of animals — road kill, to be specific. I wanted my photography to be dark and confrontational. I shot bands, portraits in graveyards, nudes of friends... somewhere I have a print of a dead possum with a cigarette in its mouth. I fancied myself super deep and misunderstood, and the last thing I wanted was to set my sights on Hallmark cards of dogs and cats.

Now that I'm exactly twice the age I was when Andi made her untimely suggestion, ask me if I want my photos mass distributed as a line of puppy photos, and you will get a resounding, "Hell yeah!" She knew something early on that I failed to grasp: that I was ...


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