In Memory


Knowing when your elderly pet is in pain or suffering and when the time is right for their peaceful euthanasia is hard, especially if you don’t know what to assess. We support families through the end of life stages by providing in home palliative care, acupuncture and euthanasia services so families can be less fearful of what is happening, more confident in making end of life decisions and ultimately provide their beloved pet with the final gentle goodbye they deserve.

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

–Winnie the Pooh

Let this be a celebration of the sensational seniors that we have loved and lost. Remembering that they were once young, vibrant and no doubt cheeky youngsters let’s look back on all the reasons we love them so dearly.

To submit your pet’s memorial, click here.


Molly, born February 2006, had a rocky start to her life. It wasn’t until her third rescue home that she found her furever family. Molly was a real family girl. She loved to be involved in everything the family was whether that was travelling in the car or simply hanging out with the family with her people is where she wanted to be.

She had the most gentle nature. Very patient with children and other dogs. She was the ultimate sweetheart. She became inseparable from her little fur-brother Teddy who loved her dearly. She let him use her as a climbing frame, playmate and companion.

In true staffy fashion Molly loved a chat. She would tell her family all about her day and how much she missed them. Sadly it is so quiet now that she is gone and little Teddy is lost without his mate.

Molly always made me smile. She was happy to be around people and so happy to be loved so much by her family. She would happily request pats during her visits and was always to pleasure to care for.

She brought joy and comfort to all those who met her. As we grieve the loss of Molly we want to take the opportunity to reflect on the joy she shared with her family. Rest peacefully beautiful Molly xxx

Nanna Cassie

Cassie came into my life when I but a young vet student who spent her weekends and holidays working at a local veterinary hospital as a veterinary nurse. She was 6 years old and had been brought in to be euthanised as the kids were no longer interested in her and the family had moved on from wanting a dog. She was dropped off in a basket with a small fluffy blanket.

She was timid and shy but warmed to me immediately. The vets were not going to euthanise her. They would find her a home and they needn’t look far. This aspiring vet knew the perfect family for her. After sharing her sad story, along with a few exaggerations Cassie was coming home to join our family. She integrated seamlessly with Jack.

She was a little independent lady who loved nothing more than being inside with us. She had spunk and was very closely bonded to me. She was anxious and suffered from separation anxiety if she was separated from Jack. She hated being hospitalised as being away from home cause her great stress. At home she was happy, she was yappy and she was my Nanna Cass.

The couch was Cassie’s domain. She loved to be up high, whether on the arm chair ends or right up on the back of the lounge she loved being the Queen of the Castle. She got to choose her spot first and the rest of us just worked around her. She tolerated my dodgy hair cuts and was the first pet to start teaching me about behaviour.

In the end Cassie develop renal amyloidosis. She had been losing weight and her appetite was inconsistent. I noticed she was drinking more water. Urine and blood tests revealed she had developed a protein losing nephropathy. I elected to go ahead with an ultrasound guided biopsy of her kidney in the hope it may have been an immune mediated condition whereby immunosuppressants may have helped. Unfortunately Cassie had renal amyloidosis where there is no treatment, simply supportive care.

Cassie lived with excellent quality of life for nearly 6 months. She ate, she drank, she slept, she cuddled and she listened to me call her Cassie Wassie Moo Moo Choo. I had decided early on in her disease process if she got to a point where she required hospitalisation I would not put her through the stress of being separated from her family and at that time I would choose to euthanise her over her spending her last days stressed and away from home.

It was the first time I had to make the decision for one of my fur babies. One morning in late 2008 Cassie didn’t want to get up and out of bed. She wasn’t tempted by any of her favourite foods and I knew it was time. She had been eating a little less over the last few days and so I knew her little body was no longer able to cope with her failing kidneys.

The family came together and took her into work. I couldn’t be with her when the intravenous catheter was placed – oh how I wish I knew about the importance of sedating them prior to euthanasia back then. I held her close, her frail little body up against mine. She crossed the rainbow bridge in my arms with me sobbing and calling her my Little Cassie Wassie Moo Moo Choo.

Cassie had two euthanasia appointments and I’m so thankful that she only kept one of them. Cassie was 12 years old when she died. She spent the best 50% of her life with us.


Percy came barging into our lives when he was rushed into my work suffering from a concussion. He was obviously an old man, he had no microchip and no-one came forward for him. I took an instant shine to this little character.

We provided supportive care and waited to see if he had any permanent damage from his concussion. He was lucky. He recovered from his concussion but then he needed full mouth extractions due to severe dental disease and castration for testicular cancer. I told my hubby that he only had 3 months to live and that it was best that he lived with a vet. He lived with us for 3 years.

Percy kept us on our toes. Many memories revolve around his Labrador like appetite and his inability to feel full. If he ever got into a bag of food he would eat until he could no longer move. In fact, he scared us on a number of occasions when we thought we might have to pump his stomach.

His favourite pastime was snuffling his way around the house searching for food and licking the floor with his dried out tongue. His tongue often made us laugh. He would fall asleep with his tongue folded up underneath his chin. It was equal parts disgusting and funny.

Poo was his favourite in-between meal snack, it didn’t matter what I tried he just kept on snacking. He took coprophagia to a new level. He even used to wait under Cassie’s bum when she was pooing. It was revolting and he once even got a skid mark on his head. LOL! No wonder his nickname was Percy Poo Pants.

I miss wriggly, snuffly, tummy rubs with Percy on the couch the most. He would wriggle and snuffle and make very cute sounds all whilst having his fat little tummy rubbed.

Percy’s life motto was “Just eat it!” and he certainly fulfilled that motto every day. In the end, Percy died suddenly at home. Just as he came blasting into our lives, he left us as abruptly. He lived by his rules and all I could do was be with him when he died.

Percy was a spunk and everyone who met him loved him. Pictures of him make me smile. And yes, I know he’s got a face that only a mother could love and this mother loved him LOTS!


Jack’s memorial is coming soon!

Making a difference when it matters the most


Monday – Sunday: By Appointment

Have a question?

Please fill out the form below and a member of our team will be in touch with you shortly. Alternatively please contact us directly at 0411 052 779.

Ready to book an appointment?

Request an appointment online in minutes!