What Happened
A Routine Procedure. An Irreversible Loss.
On November 15, 2024, Jake was taken to a local vet after he was seen stumbling and falling. During that visit, the vet discovered his prostate was enlarged and performed a urethral catheterization.
Jake never fully recovered. He was transferred to VEG (Veterinary Emergency Group), where he received emergency care on November 15 and again on November 17, 2024. On November 17, 2024, Jake was humanely euthanized.
He was eleven years old.
Bill's Account
What It Was Like to Be There
The day everything changed is an understatement.
I came home from work, parked the car, and got out — and Jake came running to greet me as he always did. But this time he stumbled and fell, several times, struggling to get back up. As concerned parents, we knew immediately that something was wrong. Paula was frightened, knowing that Jake had been living with DCM — dilated cardiomyopathy — and fearing the worst.
We decided quickly to take him to a local vet, believing it to be a good choice. That would later prove to be a mistake.
The First Visit
A Decision Made in Trust
We arrived at the clinic and checked Jake in. He was taken from us and not returned until much later. When the vet came into the waiting room, we were told his heart appeared to be fine and that the stumbling couldn't be explained. But the X-rays had raised some concern about his prostate. The vet recommended what was called a "traumatic catheterization" — explaining that a standard urine test wouldn't be definitive enough to rule out cancer. We would later learn that was far from the truth.
We agreed, trusting the vet's experience. We now recognize that trust was misplaced. We were told to return the next day for the procedure.
We came back the following afternoon. A vet tech — I assumed — took Jake from us and returned him in short order. He bounded out the door straight to us, glad to be back. What could possibly have gone wrong?
That Night
The Blood That Should Not Have Been There
Later that evening, Paula noticed blood dripping from Jake's penis. I told her it was likely from the catheter — I'd had a similar experience after a procedure for kidney stones — and that it was probably normal. She called the clinic anyway and was told it was indeed nothing to worry about, but that she could bring him back if she wanted. We waited it out.
By the next day, it was clear something was wrong. Jake wasn't eating. He was struggling to urinate. We made the decision to take him to VEG — the Veterinary Emergency Group — because they allow you to stay with your dog while they provide care.
Dr. Mac saw Jake, listened to everything we told him, and performed a follow-up exam. The prostate was already larger than it had been on the earlier X-rays. He prescribed pain medication and an appetite stimulant, advised us to monitor Jake closely, and told us to return if things got worse.
That proved to be an understatement.
The Longest Night
Sleeping on the Floor
That night I slept on the floor with Jake to keep him company. He was clearly in pain. Every fifteen minutes or so he wanted to go outside, but when he got there he couldn't urinate or defecate. The pain grew worse through the night. Looking back, I wish I had given him more pain medicine and not waited as long as I did to get him the care he needed.
Finally, around 7 AM, I woke Paula and told her we needed to get back to VEG immediately.
Luckily, Dr. Mac had just come back on shift. He saw us right away. In the waiting room, Jake was already dripping blood and tissue from his penis. Dr. Mac took another X-ray, then came back to us with the worst news of our lives: Jake's prostate had become so severely enlarged that nothing could be done. He advised us that, in Jake's best interest, we should consider humane euthanasia.
Coming Home
Lap of Love
We paid our bill. We loaded Jake as carefully as we could into the car. On the way home, we made arrangements with Lap of Love to come to the house and give Jake a peaceful end on his own terms, in the place he loved most.
Paula saying goodbye to Jake
This was devastating to us both — but more so to Paula. Jake was her soul mate. Her constant companion. Always by her bedside. She was the one who had spent years caring for his eyes, who had sat with him in the quiet of the night, who had loved him beyond what words can hold. To this day, Paula cannot speak about Jake without being overcome with emotion.
In less than five days, Jake went from happy and running to greet me in the driveway — to gone. Not from the illness he had fought so bravely for years, but from complications following a veterinary procedure.
We will never forget. We will never forgive. And we will make sure this does not happen to another family.
— Bill Hoke
