I had a dog named Brando. He was a happy golden retriever, and at the time, me and my wife’s only baby. We got him at 8 weeks old, and later had 2 wonderful children to grow up with him. At the age of three Brando grew a large tumor on his side, and had to have surgery. The tumor was removed, but two years later it came back, and with a pregnant wife, and father on his death bed, I had to send brando in for another surgery. This one, he did not survive. At age 5, Bando was dead.

Chuck from Illinois