sharp knife of a short life...

Seattle has experienced only 351 minutes of summer. A driver with a blood alcohol level four times the legal limit killed a 42-year-old Google engineer and father of two. The Mariner's have lost their 16th game in a row. Singer Amy Winehouse was found dead in her apartment after a supposed drug overdose. A master's degree is the new bachelor's degree. In Norway a political extremist opened fire at a youth camp and bombed the government center, killing over 90 people. The U.S. is facing a crisis in regards to the national debt ceiling.

It seems everywhere I turn sorrow, disappointment, fear, and death abound. Unfortunately, around my corner, my family is experiencing all of those emotions.

Last night my little sister Elizabeth was in the ER after she began hemorrhaging 10 days post-op from a tonsillectomy. Although she lost a lot of blood, she did not need a blood transfusion and her surgeon was able to come in and repair the burst artery. We were at the hospital for over five hours. She's home safe and sound, but it was quite the traumatic experience.

Tomorrow our family has to put down our 8-month-old puppy Brinkley. He has acute kidney failure which resulted from a drug administered to him after he was neutered about two weeks ago. He's been living at the vet the past week, hooked up to an IV pumping constant fluids into his frail body. Almost every day we've visited and attempted to feed him everything from chicken to cottage cheese. He wouldn't touch his dog food. EE would throw his ball for him in the dog run, reminding us of how much a puppy he still is. Every night my parents have anxiously awaited a call from the vet to reveal the results of his blood tests, only to hear that his kidney levels had not improved.

Brinkley won't go to the beach with my parents in September. He'll never frolic with other dogs at the dog park while he chases after a chuck-it ball. We'll have too much Thanksgiving turkey this year because Brinkley won't be there to haul off with it. Our ornaments will be safe from his puppy tail at Christmas. The backyard filled with toys will lay dormant. The memories we anticipated will never be made. Our house is quiet. His donut doesn't squeak and balls no longer assault every wall of the house. Kootchi has no one to play with.

We've all cried a lot today. I'm sure we'll only cry more tomorrow. This is one of those things we are subjected to as mortals. Early death. Perceived injustice. An 8-month-old puppy who was perfectly healthy two weeks ago shouldn't be dying of kidney failure. It doesn't feel right. But, reality is that sometimes we don't get the miracle, no matter how much faith we have or how hard we try.

Brinkley is more than just a dog; he's a member of our family. Now, I understand the lyrics "sharp knife of a short life" from the song If I Die Young. My family and I are living them.

In the words of my sweet little sister: "I'll miss everything..."