'I quit my career to follow my heart... and I've never looked back'
I open a video message on my phone from a client. It’s footage of her two rescue dogs playing happily in the garden together for the first time. When I met them, they were too terrified to come out of her utility room. They’d been found crammed into tiny boxes, covered in their own vomit and faeces. Watching them, I’m flooded with happiness at the realisation that I’ve helped them return to being joyful, playful dogs.
Growing up, I’d always wanted to work with animals, and my plan was to study zoology at university, but first I wanted to experience London life. I spent a gap year interning in the Miss Selfridge press office and somehow that year morphed into a fashion career spanning two decades.
My first proper job was as a press officer for the late designer Lee Alexander McQueen in the mid-1990s, and it was through him that I fell in love with rescue dogs. He’d adopted Minter, a mixed-breed, from Battersea Dogs Home. I’d look after him when Lee went away for work and I remember him giving me cash to buy Minter fresh chicken every day.
At 23, I rather impulsively bought a Shih Tzu. Nobby came with me everywhere, and he was such a character that chefs in fancy restaurants would cook him his own plate of sausages. By then I was working for Julien Macdonald, doing everything from emptying the bins to directing the worldwide press – often on the same day. It was such an exciting time, but although I loved my work, I rarely went to any fashion parties – most often I’d be at home with my head in a Jane Goodall or David Attenborough book.
I was finally contemplating going to university when, at 33, I was approached to work for Stella McCartney. It was just too good an opportunity to miss as it brought together several of my passions: fashion, the environment and animal rights. I took the job, but increasingly I felt drawn to a slower pace of life.
So in 2009, I moved to Hampshire to be with my boyfriend, now my husband and father to our two children. My fashion work continued, but I felt so much happier being surrounded by animals and nature. A few months after moving, I rehomed a difficult Jack Russell called Tiggy. I quickly worked out how to calm her down and people remarked on how well I’d brought her on.
It planted a seed and I began seriously considering the idea of working in dog behaviour, but it felt like a huge leap. Then my mum broke the news that my aunt had terminal cancer at 58. It made me realise suddenly that life can be cut brutally short. That same afternoon, I handed in my notice, determined to pursue the idea of working with troubled dogs.
My husband was very supportive and I did bits of fashion PR work to keep money coming in, but I spent the next three years completing courses in canine aggression and behavioural issues. I learnt so much, and finally felt like I was doing what I’m here to do. When Tiggy died in 2016, I was heartbroken but it spurred me on to create a legacy for her by helping other rescue dogs.
Last year, that moment came when I opened Maher & Hound, my own company offering behavioural rehabilitation services and bespoke dog training.
I remember my hands sweating as I drove to my first consultation – I was so nervous – but it went well and I got a good review; that led to more enquiries and now I do it full-time. Owners might contact me if their dog has been affected by an attack from another dog or to deal with separation anxiety. Since lockdown I’ve worked with clients via video consultation, some as far away as Rome.
Now I have five dogs of my own and every day I genuinely cannot believe that I get paid to do this job. Being a PR is 24/7; I now set my own working hours for pretty much the same financial reward. Part of me wishes I’d made the change years ago, but I enjoyed my fashion career. One thing that I haven’t left behind is my love of clothes. I like getting dressed up to meet clients and haven’t succumbed to Crocs and a fleece yet.
To find out more about Maher's services, visit maherandhounddogtraining.com
As told to Olivia Lidbury
