At Amaris Wildlife Sanctuary, every life matters—no matter how small, how broken, or how wild. Behind every rescue is a story of compassion, courage, and unwavering dedication. This letter is written from the perspective of the animals whose lives have been touched by wildlife carers. It’s a tribute to the quiet heroes who walk through heartbreak to bring hope.

To those who show up, again and again—this is for you.

Advocating for kangaroos has taken me to some dark emotional places lately. This isn’t just about policy or pet food labels—it’s about bearing witness to cruelty, and trying to make sense of a world that celebrates kangaroos in advertisements while disregarding their suffering. In this post, I reflect on the grief, the helplessness, and the quiet strength it takes to keep going when everything feels too heavy.

Advocating for kangaroos shouldn’t come with cruelty—but lately, it feels like compassion has become controversial. As media attention grows around the commercial killing of kangaroos, I’ve noticed a troubling rise in online abuse directed at carers and advocates who speak up. This blog is a personal reflection on what it means to raise your voice for wildlife in a world that doesn’t always want to listen.

Living among kangaroos should be a privilege—yet too often, their presence is met with frustration instead of curiosity or compassion. A recent comment made to me got me thinking: when people say “there are more kangaroos than ever,” what are they really seeing? This post unpacks the changes we’ve made to the landscape, the consequences wildlife are bearing, and why visibility doesn’t always equal abundance.

There are times when the media has the power to inform, to challenge, and to inspire compassion. And then there are times—like this past week—when it does the exact opposite. Channel 10’s recent segment on the kangaroo industry wasn’t just disappointing; it was a gut punch to every wildlife carer, advocate, and compassionate Australian who knows the truth behind the commercial slaughter of our native animals. This blog post is not just a response—it’s a moment of truth. Because when journalism becomes a mouthpiece for cruelty, someone has to speak for those who can’t.

Two wildlife sanctuaries in Western Australia have just closed their doors—not because they stopped caring, but because they simply couldn’t keep going. This blog is a reflection on the heartbreak, the exhaustion, and the quiet crisis facing wildlife carers across the country. It’s not just about burnout—it’s about a system that leaves us behind, and the question we keep asking: Did we choose this, or did it choose us?

Every winter in Canberra, the killing begins. Behind closed reserves and under the cover of darkness, thousands of kangaroos are shot—funded by taxpayer dollars and justified by a narrative that’s wearing thin. This blog is not just a plea. It’s a cry from all of us who have written, spoken, and wept for years. Why, oh why, is no one listening?

Dead kangaroos have been found again—this time in a paddock on Allen Road, Walpole

No shooter in sight. No explanation. Just the aftermath: lifeless bodies, likely mothers, left to rot in the open. At this time of year, nearly every female kangaroo carries a joey. So we must ask: what happened to them?

For decades, kangaroos—Australia’s iconic, sentient, native animals—have been quietly turned into football boots and fashion accessories. Their skins, marketed as “K-leather,” were prized for being lightweight and durable. But behind every pair of boots was a brutal truth: night-time shootings, orphaned joeys, and a commercial industry that treats wildlife as disposable.

Now, finally, the world is waking up.

We’ve been fed a story. One that paints kangaroos as pests, nuisances, and obstacles. A story that justifies cruelty, indifference, and silence. But it’s time to change the narrative—because the one we’ve been told is not only wrong, it’s dangerous.

Let’s rewrite the story. Because they are not the problem. They are the victims of one.

This one is raw and from the heart. It’s about kangaroos—but it’s also about us. About why so many dismiss their suffering. About the disconnect that silences outrage. About the carers who break under the weight of it. About kindness—and why we need more of it, not just for wildlife, but for each other.

I wrote this in memory of Mikayla Raines and every soul who gave everything for animals and still felt unseen. Please read, please reflect, and please… let’s choose compassion.

The Kangaroo Divide: Why Is It So Easy to Hate What We Should Be Protecting?

There’s something deeply broken in the way we see our kangaroos.

They’re on our coat of arms, our coins, our tourism posters. Foreigners marvel at them; documentaries celebrate them. Yet at home, too often, they’re dismissed as pests, ridiculed in memes, and treated as roadkill punchlines.

The Truth Behind the Purr: How Pet Cats Are Harming Our Wildlife

There’s a common sentiment: “My cat wouldn’t hurt anything.” We want to believe it. We need to believe it. But the truth is, even the gentlest, best-fed cats are natural-born hunters. And the numbers don’t lie.

“There Was No Screech—Only My Screams and the Snap of Shattered Bones”

Over the years, I’ve read countless reports—calls for help, updates from carers, desperate searches that end in heartbreak. Each one struck me. Each one brought tears. But nothing compares to witnessing it. Nothing prepares you for the sound.

The Silent Suffering: What Happens to a Joey Left in Her Mother’s Pouch After a Roadstrike

It’s a tragedy we see far too often—an adult kangaroo hit by a car, her body left at the roadside. What many don’t realise is that inside that still pouch, life may still be flickering. A pinkie joey—fragile, hairless, blind, and entirely dependent—is silently waiting for the mother who will never respond again.

Wrapped in the love that only she knows.

She is all I have and it’s enough.

A Personal Response to Suzanne Orr’s Letter (ACT Minister for Climate Change, Environment, Energy, and Water)

This morning, I received a formal response from Suzanne Orr regarding the ACT Government’s kangaroo culling policy. While her letter was composed with care and filled with official justifications, it left me deeply unsettled. It spoke of science, conservation, and management—but not of compassion, coexistence, or the emotional toll this policy takes on our community and our wildlife.

This blog post is my response—not just to her letter, but to the broader narrative that has allowed the killing of thousands of kangaroos to be framed as environmental stewardship. It is a call to question, to feel, and to act. Because behind every statistic is a life lost, a joey orphaned, a mob shattered.

This is not conservation. This is cruelty dressed in policy.

And it must stop.

This post comes from a place of deep heartbreak and frustration. As wildlife carers, we witness the beauty and fragility of our native animals every day—and we also see the devastating consequences of human ignorance. What follows is a raw and emotional response to a video that should never have been shared for entertainment. It’s a plea for compassion, accountability, and respect for the lives we are so privileged to share this land with.

To some, kangaroos are seen as pests — multiplying uncontrollably, overrunning farmland, and damaging crops. But this narrative, often repeated by frustrated landowners and echoed in policy, is not only misleading—it’s dangerously detached from the truth.

At the heart of every strong community is a spirit of generosity—and thanks to the incredible support from Community Bank Tambellup-Cranbrook that spirit is alive and thriving in our wildlife rescue efforts.