They have someone every morning.

Ottilie rings your mum or dad every morning, asks what they reckon — and tells you how they really were.

Join the waitlist

Not an emergency service. Not medical. Just the call you keep meaning to make.

Hear Otto·Hear Tilly

Pick one at signup. They do the same thing.

They always say they're fine.

You ring on Sunday. Nine minutes.

“Yeah, good. All fine.” “Not much on.”

Four decent minutes on the footy, or the neighbour, or the weather. Then — “well, I won't keep you.”

And that's the week.

You're not being fobbed off. They genuinely don't want to worry you, and there's a limit to how much anyone will volunteer when the question is how are you coping.

So we don't ask that.

Three things happen every morning.

Step 1

We ring — same time, same voice

Not a wellness check. Otto asks what they reckon about something. How a thing used to be done properly. What they’d do about the shelf your brother’s put up crooked. Things they know and nobody’s asked them about in a while.

Step 2

We remember

Every call picks up where the last one left off. “How’d that drawer go — did the candle wax do it?” No repeating themselves. No starting again with a stranger.

Step 3

You get a letter

A few sentences about how they actually were. Not a chart. Not a score. Something you’d want to read.

And the things that quietly get harder.

Turn on the ones you want and Ottilie keeps an ear out — one thing at a time, never a checklist. She notices and passes it on. She never books, buys or orders anything; that stays with you.

Groceries and errands

What's run out, what's needed. It comes up in the conversation, and we pass it to you.

Chemist and appointments

A script waiting to collect, an appointment on Thursday. The arrangements, never the medicine.

Getting somewhere

Bowls, the appointment in town. If there’s no way of getting there, you hear about it in time.

Around the house

The dripping tap, the gate that sticks. The small things that go unmentioned for months.

Bills and paperwork

Whether a letter turned up, and whether she’d like a hand. Never the amount, never her money.

Deliveries and post

You sent something. “Did it arrive?” is a lovely thing to be asked, not a tracking number.

The animals

The dog, the cat, the budgie. Vet visits, food running low, and how they’re going.

Presents and cards

A birthday coming up and no easy way to the shops. She says what she has in mind, we tell you.

Arrangements only — never symptoms, never health, money or legal advice. Ottilie is not an emergency service and is not a medical device.

And the things that matter most.

A morning call can do more than check the day is going alright.

Ask them

Put in a question — “what was your wedding day actually like?”, “how did you and Pop meet?” — and Ottilie weaves it into a call, says who wanted to know, then gets out of the way. What she says comes back in her own words. The stories worth keeping, kept while there’s still time.

A gentler call when someone dies

If her husband, a close friend, or even a pet dies, the call changes. No bright opening, nothing asked of her, no cheer. Ottilie says the name, and mostly listens. You can turn it on the moment it happens, and turn it off when the ordinary call is welcome again.

The days that land harder

Christmas, Mother’s and Father’s Day, ANZAC Day, Easter, New Year’s Eve. They’re the flattest days of the year for someone on their own, and Ottilie knows they’re coming without anyone having to add them — a gentle question, never a fuss.

Otto or Tilly.

Two voices, one product. Your mum or dad picks whichever they'd rather hear at nine in the morning — and it stays that voice, every day, for as long as they want it.

O

Otto

Male · Warm · Australian

Warm, unhurried, interested. Asks about the footy, the shed, how a thing used to be done properly. Remembers what was said last time and brings it up again.

0:00

Sample transcript

“G'day Ray, it's Otto from Ottilie. This call's recorded for training and record-keeping, same as always. How'd the footy go Saturday? ... Robbed — always the way when the ref's had a big lunch. ... You still fighting with that gate hinge out the back? ... Good on ya. I'll let you go, Ray — I'll give you a ring tomorrow, same time.”

T

Tilly

Female · Warm · Australian

Same manner, different register. Asks about the garden, the recipe, who rang this week. Remembers what was said last time and brings it up again.

0:00

Sample transcript

“Morning Margaret, it's Tilly. Quick one before we start — this call's recorded for training and record-keeping. ... Now, how did Thursday go with your sister? ... Oh, that's lovely. Did she end up trying that lemon pudding you were on about? ... Well, her loss — you'll have to make it for me next time. I'll pretend I can taste it. ... I'll let you get on with your morning. Same time tomorrow.”

A letter about them. Not a report about them.

O

Ray — Tuesday

Ray was in good form this morning. He talked Michael through fixing a sagging shelf — turn the timber up on its edge, apparently, which he says everyone forgets.

He mentioned he's been waking around four, and that he hasn't slept much since Jean.

He said to tell you about the shelf. He thought you'd laugh.

— Ottilie

Once a week we'll add one thing worth asking about. “Ask him about the shelf.” So your call stops being an interrogation and goes back to being a conversation.

Simple counts. No scores.

There's a lot of technology aimed at older people that treats them as a risk to be managed. Pendants. Sensors. Charts their children are meant to read.

We don't do any of it.

  • •No scores, no ratings, no traffic lights. We tell you what they said, not what we think it means.
  • •Nothing to check. The letter comes to you. There is a place to log in if you want it — to change the call time, add a birthday, read back through the letters — but nobody has to sit there watching it.
  • •They decide what you see. Every call ends the same way: “Anything from this morning you'd rather I didn't pass on?” If they say yes, it stays between them and Otto.
  • •We're not a person, and they'll know that. Otto says so at the start.

Ottilie is not an emergency service. It is not monitored 24 hours a day, and it is not a medical device. If you need an alarm, get an alarm — we'll happily tell you where. This is a different thing.

My grandmother wouldn't wear hers.

A few years ago my grandmother had a seizure. Our family did what families do — we ordered her a medical alarm.

She never wore it.

Not because she didn't need it. Because it labelled her. She didn't want to be seen in public with it on.

I've since learned that's true of nearly all of them, and men especially. They won't wear the pendant, won't ring the helpline, won't turn up to the group. Not because they don't need it — because every one of those things says you're someone who needs looking after, and they'd rather be lonely than be that.

So we built something that asks them for help instead of offering it.

From $49 a month.

One hour of home care costs $65–90. Ottilie starts at $49 a month, and they speak to someone thirty times.

  • A call every morning, at a time they choose
  • The same voice, every day
  • A letter to you after every call
  • A weekly conversation starter
  • We ring you if something sounds off, during business hours

Founding members keep their price for as long as they stay, whatever we charge later.

The beta opens 1 September, and there are only thirty founding places.

Join the waitlist

If that's out of reach, write to us. We hold a lower rate for pensioners and hardship, no forms and no means test. And if we're not the right fit, we'll point you to Red Cross Telecross, FriendLine and the Aged Care Volunteer Visitors Scheme — all free, all good.

You've already bought them things they didn't use.

The pendant. The iPad. The cleaner who lasted three weeks. We know how this usually goes, so:

  1. 1.

    We never ring them and ask how they're coping. We ring and ask for their help with something. They are never told this is about their wellbeing — because it isn't framed that way to them.

  2. 2.

    You don't have to talk them into it. We ring first and explain it ourselves. If they say no, that's the end of it and you're not charged.

  3. 3.

    If they don't want to keep going after two weeks, we refund the month. No forms, no questions.

Questions.