TALENTED Cohuna veterinarian Paul Clavin has been described as a quiet achiever, and the length and breadth of mourners at his service showed just how much he had achieved.
Paul was on Friday farewelled in a moving service on the banks of the Gunbower Creek.
The 61-year-old died at a Melbourne hospital on April 24 after sustaining a traumatic head injury while responding to a job at a dairy farm.
Born on December 26, 1961, in England, Paul was the youngest of three boys.
He settled in Cohuna, attending St Mary’s and Cohuna High School.
After starting a science degree at Monash, Paul transferred to veterinarian science two years later at Melbourne University.
He began his career in Warrnambool where he remained for one year before he moved back home and accepted a job with George Drummond in 1990.
In 1997, Paul opened his own practice, now called Clavin, Rogers & Associates Veterinary Surgeons.
He met wife Karen at university and they married in Portsea in 1999.
The couple were blessed with three children – Isabella, Alexander and Emily.
Karen said Paul was knowledgeable, had an air of capability and assumed a lot of responsibility.
Youngest daughter Emily penned a heartfelt letter to her dad, saying he was the best dad in the whole world.
“There is no one else out there like you,” she said.
“You set the perfect example of how someone should be.
“Many people know you as an amazing vet but you’re so much more than that.
“You are kind, literally the funniest person I’ve ever met – laid-back, generous, hard-working, loving, humble, cheeky, selfless and all-round good bloke.”
Emily said she couldn’t think of a time her dad didn’t make her feel anything other than happy and adored.
“Even if you had a bad day yourself, not once was that reflected in the way you treated me,” she said.
“I will forever miss your stupid jokes, your cheeky laugh, your love for planting trees and buying old cars you swear you will do up and sell and never do, your beautiful face, the hilarious things you would text me and when you’d tell me you were proud of me.
“I miss your hilarious phrases like ‘dogs have rights too’.
“I miss the times it was just me and you at home, and as soon as mum would ring to say she was on her way home, we would both jump up and start cleaning the absolute mess we had made like it was an Olympic sport.
“And the times I would get messages from my friends that they busted you at the servo buying iced coffees after you told us you were off them for good.”
Emily said she wished she told dad she loved him on the morning of the accident, but “never imagined it would be the last time I spoke to you”.
“When mum told me you were in an accident and had to drive to hospital, I was scared but in the back of my head I knew you would be OK because you seemed invincible,” she said.
“I pictured you sitting in bed, cracking jokes about how everyone had been so dramatic and demanding us to get you Macca’s.
“The donation of two of your kidneys to help others in need was your last act of generosity.
“Perfect symbolism of the man you are.”
Brothers Mark and Simon reflected on their youngest sibling’s achievements and life growing up having his birthday on Boxing Day.
“It’s always a tough gig trying to say nice things about your younger siblings, especially when you are the oldest,” Mark said.
“While the baby gets the free run of all the restrictions and hard-fought concessions that Simon and I had to battle for, Paul was always a very agreeable guy as a child and adult which made it impossible for us to give him a hard time.
“Our recently departed Queen Elizabeth said, ‘grief is the price we pay for love’, and Paul was much loved.
“Paul was born on Boxing Day and having a birthday so close to the Christmas giving was always considered a bit of a dud deal for a kid, because your birthday celebration got washed in with Christmas festivities.”
Mark said the trio would head to bed with a pile of unopened gifts left beneath the Christmas tree, destined for Paul the following day.
“It was excruciating for Paul, and cruel brothers Simon and I really milked it,” he recalled.
“Sometimes we would wrap our own gifts and stash them back under the tree so Paul thought he was getting twice as many gifts on his birthday.
Simon said: “He was a quiet achiever yet his contributions to the Cohuna and district farming community was heard very loudly in the Facebook comments on Karen’s post.”
Karen said the death of Paul left a “huge hole” in the vet profession.
“Back in those days, new graduates were thrown into the deep end of practice, it was sink or swim, the learning curve was steep and brutal,” she said.
“Paul’s deep end was deeper than most – being on call every second weekend and having to do the greyhounds on the Saturday night he wasn’t on call.
“With Paul’s strength of character and determination, not only did he cope but thrived, he quickly became competent and was lured back to Cohuna where he stayed.
“It’s hard for me to explain just how good a vet Paul was.
“Starting with the natural affinity for animals, especially dogs that gravitated towards him.
“He handled cattle and horses with patience and skill.
“He had ability to distance himself from emotional fallout when cases don’t go well, but on flip side, he was so caring towards owners and animals alike.”
