We've been thinking about this one for a while. You already know us for the cartoons, the articles, the socks. But there was something else we wanted to make — something for the moments that don't happen at work. The moments after. The drive home. The front door. The five minutes you take before you go inside and become a person again. So we made you a candle. After Hours White Sage and Lavender. It's calm. It's grounding. It smells like the shift is actually over. We named i

The University of Melbourne handed its teaching hospital to Greencross. I have questions. I want to be careful here. I want to be fair. I want to acknowledge that the University of Melbourne was in a genuinely difficult position — a reduced caseload, staff shortages, falling revenue, a hospital that had become financially unsustainable. These are real problems and they don't have easy solutions. But I also want to be honest about what I think happened, and what it means for t

We Made Grass Seed Socks. You're Welcome They can't migrate if they're on your feet. For everyone who has ever spent twenty minutes with forceps and a very unimpressed patient. If you work in veterinary practice in Australia or New Zealand, grass seeds are not a seasonal inconvenience. They are a way of life. From September through to March, barely a day goes by without at least one presentation that starts with "he's been licking his paw" and ends with a triumphant extractio

Euthanasia is one of the most profound things we do in veterinary practice. Here's how to carry it — for new graduates, experienced vets, and the nurses who hold the room together. There is a moment, somewhere in your first year of practice, when you realise that euthanasia is not something you will do occasionally. It is something you will do regularly. Perhaps weekly. Perhaps more. Nobody fully prepares you for that. Vet school covers the technique. It covers the drugs and

"He's just big-boned!"

Instructions unclear

In the interest of science, and after years of careful observation, we present this entirely affectionate taxonomy of the people who walk through our doors. Every veterinary professional develops, over time, a quiet internal classification system. You see a name on the consult list and you already know, roughly, what you're walking into. Not because you're judging — you're not — but because humans, bless them, are wonderfully predictable. Here, for the first time, is the offi

"Better late than never" is not clinic policy

Spoiler alert: he did.

"Socks, crayons, and something that used to be a remote control"

An honest review of the Littmann Cardiology IV after years of daily use in veterinary practice. Let me tell you what happened with my first stethoscope. I bought what I was told to buy. A mid-range Littmann — perfectly adequate, widely recommended, the kind of thing that appears on every vet student checklist without much explanation. It did the job. I used it for a couple of years. And then I upgraded to the Cardiology IV and realised I had been missing things. Not dramatica