This part of our story didn’t begin with a business plan. It began quietly, in the space that followed saying goodbye to Mia, when we found ourselves searching for a way to honour her that felt true to the life she lived rather than the moment we lost her. Nearly a year passed before anything felt right. Everywhere we looked, traditional memorial options centred around loss itself, urns, ashes containers, paw prints and headstones. Each one carried meaning for many families, but for us they felt tied to the ending rather than the years of life that came before it.

What we kept coming back to was a quiet thought:

Why did everything focus on the ending instead of the story?

Mia wasn’t defined by her passing. She was defined by the way she ran to the gate, the look she gave us when she knew she’d been caught doing something cheeky, and the moments captured in photos we still smile at today. We didn’t want a reminder of absence. We wanted something that kept her presence woven into everyday life.

That search, and the gap we felt, is what eventually became Mia Cooper & Co.

Shifting the focus from grief to remembrance

We began to notice that many memorial offerings signal loss first. They are often designed to sit quietly on a shelf or exist within a space reserved for mourning. Our experience showed us that remembrance can also feel warm, alive and part of daily surroundings.

That is why our “custom from photo” garden memorials and wall pieces were created differently. Instead of centring around ashes or symbols of passing, they begin with a favourite moment. A photo families adore. A glance, a posture, a personality captured in time. Something that makes people say, “that’s them.”

These pieces are not about recreating grief. They are about preserving connection.

Honouring personality, not just memory

Over time, we noticed something meaningful. When families choose a photo that reflects their pet’s spirit, a funny pose, a proud stance or a soft expression, the memorial feels less like an object and more like a continuation of relationship.

The focus gently shifts away from what was lost and toward what was shared.

For many, that means placing a piece in the garden where their dog used to watch the world go by, or near an entryway where their cat greeted them each day. The memorial becomes part of life again rather than something separate from it.

A lived experience that shaped our philosophy

Our own journey taught us that remembrance doesn’t have to feel heavy to be meaningful. It can be subtle. It can be joyful. It can celebrate the years of companionship that existed long before goodbye.

That lived experience continues to guide how we design, communicate and create space for families today. We understand that everyone grieves differently and there is no single “right” way to honour a pet. But for those who feel drawn to celebrating a life well lived, to remembering personality, movement and presence, we hope our work offers another path.

Because behind every piece we create is a simple belief:

Memorials do not have to centre around sadness to be deeply meaningful.

Sometimes the most powerful remembrance comes from holding onto the moments that made us smile in the first place.