09/11/2026
Today my dog went in for what was supposed to be a completely routine surgery: a spay.
We wanted to get the spay out of the way because thereās potentially something else underlying that we need to investigate, and removing hormones and future heat cycles from the equation is one step in figuring out whatās going on.
And because I am me, we did everything āright.ā
Pre-op bloodwork? ā
Vaccines? ā
Preventatives? ā
Microchipped? ā
All the responsible-dog-owner boxes checked? Absolutely.
I dropped her off this morning expecting to pick up a slightly drugged, freshly spayed Belgian Malinois.
Instead, when I picked her up, the vet sat me down and told me there had been an accident during surgery.
They accidentally nicked her spleen.
Iām not going to pretend I immediately responded with some calm, rational, emotionally regulated response. š I had been awake since 3:30 AM, driven an hour and a half for this appointment, and suddenly I was hearing āspleenā and ābleedingā when I thought I was picking up my dog from a routine spay.
So yes, I panicked a little and immediately called my sister, who works in veterinary medicine, and basically said, āPlease explain this to me like I am five.ā
After talking it through, asking questions, and actually having time to process everything, though, I realized something:
Iām actually really glad I chose the vet I did.
Does it stink that this happened? Absolutely.
Are the next several days going to make me nervous because now Iām monitoring a Belgian Malinois recovering from a spay AND making sure her spleen continues healing properly? Also absolutely.
Because telling a Malinois to remain calm is basically asking a tornado to politely sit still. š
But accidents happen.
And I think sometimes we forget that when people work with living, breathing animals, there is no such thing as eliminating risk 100%.
You can perform thousands of surgeries successfully and still eventually have a complication.
You can have every safety protocol imaginable and still have a dog fight.
You can build a 12-foot velociraptor fence and somehow a dog will still look at it and say, āChallenge accepted.ā
You can do the bloodwork, vaccines, monitoring, preventative care, staffing, training, managementāall of itāand something can STILL go wrong.
What matters tremendously to me is what you do when it does.
This vet could have repaired what happened and never said a word to me.
How would I have known?
Instead, they told me.
They explained what happened. They took accountability. They performed additional testing and provided the additional medication and care she needed without adding those costs to my bill. They gave me instructions about what to monitor and told me that if complications related to the spleen injury occur, to bring her back and they will take care of what needs to be done.
No hiding it.
No making excuses.
No hoping I never found out.
Just:
This happened. We addressed it. Hereās what we did. Hereās what you need to watch for. And if there is a problem, we are going to make it right.
THAT matters to me.
Iāve had people tell me, āI would never use that vet again.ā
And after having time to process everything, I actually feel the opposite.
I would much rather work with someone who can look me in the face and tell me something went wrong than someone who wants me to believe theyāve somehow worked with animals their entire career without ever having an accident or complication.
Because I work with animals too.
I know what it feels like to have protocols that have worked successfully for YEARS and then one day something completely unexpected happens.
And thatās really why I wanted to share this on my business page.
Whether youāre a veterinarian, groomer, trainer, boarding facility, daycare, rescue, breeder, pet sitter, or anyone else trusted with someoneās animal, perfection isnāt what builds trust.
Transparency does. Accountability does. Communication does.
Mistakes and accidents can damage a business, but dishonesty can destroy trust even faster.
Outside of this complication, my experience with this facility was genuinely great. It was clean. The staff were incredibly kind. Nobody made me feel rushed. Every person who walked through the door seemed to get their full attention.
And when something DID go wrong with my dog, they didnāt hide from it.
Would I have preferred the boring version where I picked up my sleepy little Maligator, drove home, and spent the next two weeks convincing her that crate rest isnāt a personal attack?
Obviously. š
But my takeaway from today isnāt:
āNever make a mistake.ā
Itās:
When something goes wrong, tell the truth. Take accountability. Communicate. Support the person affected. And do everything in your power to make it right.
Sometimes the way a business handles the moment when things DONāT go perfectly tells you more about them than everything going perfectly ever could.
Now we begin Operation: Keep a Belgian Malinois Calm While Her Abdomen AND Spleen Heal.
Wish us luck. I have a feeling that may be the biggest challenge of this entire experience. š
