I’m such a sentimental person, so when I decided to part with my beloved Canon Rebel camera this past weekend after I invested in a newer more professional Canon, I actually felt awful – even guilty about it. It was as if I was divorcing it for a much newer (even sexier) model. I have become the cougar of the camera world, it seems.

I’ve had so many good times with that little camera, and I thought about the many photos I’ve taken with it. It launched my love of photography – one that has finally outgrown the Rebel’s 10 megapixels. It even launched my career that brought me to Jasper. I didn’t plan on ending up as a photojournalist, I just hoped to snap the occasional picture to assist a story or two that I wrote. But as I worked as a sports editor in Whitehorse, I realized how much fun being a photographer was, and I was allowed – even encouraged – to combine both skills. Enter the Fitzhugh. 

As I write this, I’ve owned my new camera for three days, and I’ve realized how accustomed to my old camera I had become and how much learning I still have as I make the switch. I grabbed my last pictures off the Rebel from my new memory card and edited them this morning. I know I made the right career decision; but I’m picturing my little Rebel, sad and alone in my sister’s possession, never to be used to its full potential again. Before I left I gave her a lesson on all its bells and whistles, and I was asked to just stick it on auto a few seconds into my lecture. 

My new Canon 60D is the coolest gadget I’ve ever owned. It’s flashy, shiny and I got to take it right out of the box myself – but my dear Rebel was worn in all the right places. The eye piece was falling off, the viewfinder no longer went high enough to support my eyesight that has deteriorated since 2007 when I bought the camera, the lens was terrible and according to the guy who sold it to me, the fact that it ran on a Compact Flash card was embarrassing. I didn’t know any better, I just pointed it at stuff, and learned how to be a photographer with it. 

Now at least, I look the part. My new camera is twice the size and probably three times the weight, I have lenses, filters, a fancy new case, and so on. I’ve read page after page of the manual (which I have never done before) and bothered my family all weekend with “Guess what else my new camera can do?”

At one point I discovered I can actually shoot in black and white, and my mother said, “Why would you ever want to, if you can just change it later in Photoshop?” and I replied “The point is that I can, Mom.”

So before I left my beloved Rebel behind in B.C., I paused, patted it on the hot shoe, and said “See ya later, little buddy,” before carrying away my new cougar cub of a camera.

If my Rebel had eyes, and tear ducts, it was certainly crying – I know I felt a pang of guilt in my chest, and still do.  

DISCLAIMER: The Last Word is an opinion column, it is meant to provoke thought and debate. As such, any opinions written here are the writers own and do not reflect the viewpoint of any other Fitzhugh staff member or the directors of the Jasper Media Group Inc.