Although I posted seperately about saying good bye to Rumbles, I wanted to complete this thread for anyone who might be experiencing splenic tumors.

By the time that Rumbles' splenic tumor was found, he had been experiencing bouts of anemia for about 6 months. His bloodwork showed typical anemic counts and also 'immature cells' indicating that something was interfering with cell production. He had no palpable tumors and his chest x-rays were clear.

On 'down days' when the anemia was affecting him, his gums would become light pink and he would barely have energy to walk. We'd call the vet, he'd tell us to give him 1 tramadol, let him rest and bring him in if it got worse. Rums would sleep the day away and the next morning, he'd be back to normal, gums flushed with color and with much more energy. These down days didn't happen often. Really no more than 4 days in those first 6 months and never more than one day at a time.

In December, the splenic tumor was found. When we decided against surgery, our vet advised of possible scenarios. First, that the tumor could rupture quickly. He said that if the tumor ruptured in a sudden, extreme manner, that there would be massive internal bleeding and death would be quick, probably with no time to even get him to the animal hospital. Second, the tumor could rupture slowly, with small tears that could cause slow internal bleeding. He said this could look like the anemia episodes, so that we should not leave him alone if he had these symptoms and that we should bring him in to the vet office or animal hospital if his condition worsened. Third, he said that the type of tumor that he suspected (hemangio) could eventually spread to the heart. At this point, I didn't want to hear anymore. We went home with our boy, crying.

From December to April, we took care of the old dog. He got whatever he wanted...steak, french fries, pickles, bagels. We took short walks that made him really tired, but he was still SO happy to go for 'walkies' that I couldn't say no. We went to his favorite park where he loved to watch the kids at the playground. He rolled in the dry winter grass, happy as could be. He had a few bouts anemic 'down days'. Every time it happened, we went into 'this is it' mode, keeping a very close eye on him, looking for any signs of distress. He bounced back again and again, just as he had before the tumor was discovered.

But on April 2nd, he woke up around 1am and threw up as soon as he stood up. Immediately after, he lost control of his bladder. We rushed him outside and he immediately walked behind the garage (where he NEVER went before) and wouldn't come back to the house. I went out and coaxed him back into the house. He was wobbly and weak, but his eyes were clear and alert and his gums were pink. I carried him back up to his bed. He got up and laid down on the rug instead (again, something he never did). He fell deeply asleep, snoring loudly. I rested lightly and when the sun came up, checked on him again. He was still sleeping soundly. I had an important meeting at work, so I went in and my husband stayed home. Around noon, we spoke on the phone and acknowledged that this was the day we had been dreading and we must do what we promised we would do. I called the vet; he was getting ready to close early, but said that he'd wait for us. As soon as the vet saw Rumbles, he said, 'You're right, it's time'...with tears in his eyes.

"I know this couldn't be easy, and the fact that you found the courage to do so really says a lot about your character. Your strength in sharing the stories of how this condition progressed will go on to help others someday."

Dog strength. You know.

After Rumbles was gone, our vet said, "He fought so hard to stay with you. I've never seen a dog fight harder than he did."