
Flynn’s FCE Story
Our very own story of Flynn ~ FCEtalk Chief FCE Officer

When our boy Flynn suffered a spinal stroke (FCE), our world changed overnight. One moment, he was happily chasing balls around the yard, and the next, he couldn’t even stand. We had gone to the shops that morning and came home to find him sulking quietly in the front yard. At first, we thought he had hurt himself playing, but when we went to him, our hearts sank — Flynn couldn’t get up. He was paralysed on his right side.
We scooped him up and rushed him to the vet, terrified and desperate for answers. The outlook we were given wasn’t very positive. We were willing to do absolutely everything we could to help him recover, but the road ahead sounded uncertain and overwhelming.
The following days quickly blurred together into an exhausting routine of morning and afternoon trips (around working hours) to the vet for bladder catheterising, pain medication, rehabilitation exercises, sleepless nights, and quiet tears on the kitchen floor when nobody else was watching. Flynn was a heavy boy and difficult to carry, so we invested in a small beach trolley from the hardware store to help move him from inside the house to the car, then to the vet.
The Small Wins
Progress came painfully slowly. A tiny paw twitch would give us hope. A shaky attempt to stand felt enormous. Even a small tail wag became something worth celebrating. But emotionally, it was draining. We constantly questioned whether we were doing the right thing, all while battling exhaustion, fear, and heartbreak.
One of the hardest parts was watching Flynn struggle with the most basic things. He couldn’t stand to pee or poop, and every failed attempt broke our hearts. We tried supporting him so he could toilet normally, but his body simply wouldn’t cooperate. At one stage, we were spending close to $200 a day on bladder extraction procedures and medication just to keep him comfortable.
The Four Day Weekend
Then came the 4-day weekend over Easter, and our vet advised we would have to take him to the emergency veterinary service over that time for his ongoing bladder care. We contacted them, and they gave us a quote of over $3,000 for the bladder extraction and care over 4 days. That also meant two x 1-hour round trips each day. We simply could not afford that, even if we wanted to.
For the first time, we were terrified we were going to have to put him to sleep.
Desperate for another option, we asked our vet to teach us how to catheterise. We were scared stiff of getting it wrong, but we knew we had to try. So we learned how to do it. Despite how overwhelming everything felt, we never gave up, and somehow, neither did Flynn. We extracted his bladder twice a day and then, after weeks of heartbreak, worry, and tiny signs of progress, on Easter Sunday, something extraordinary happened. Flynn slowly stood up on his own. He took a few trembling, uneven steps away from us… and then he did a wee completely by himself.
We cried instantly.
It felt impossible, like witnessing an Easter miracle unfold before our eyes. In that moment, every sleepless night, every difficult exercise, every tear, every moment of doubt suddenly felt worth it.
Slow and steady Recovery
Flynn taught us more about resilience than we ever thought possible. Recovery after FCE isn’t just about healing a dog’s body — it’s about rebuilding hope, celebrating tiny victories, and learning to keep going even when the future feels uncertain.
Today, Flynn still has a lopsided walk, and some days are definitely harder than others. But despite the challenges, we are endlessly grateful to still have our beautiful boy with us. Watching him continue to fight, adapt, and enjoy life reminds us every single day just how strong dogs truly are.
With Love, your favourite Chief FCE Officer, Flynn



