Turning Point: Sam Levin


We knew she was dying from bone cancer. 200 ft is all that stood between her and living to see another day. Instead, one misstep and the inevitable transpired; A clean snap of her right front leg. I will never forget the yelp she released on that Philadelphia sidewalk. At home, we carried all 85 lbs of her from the car to the front lawn. I took one last look at her big brown eyes whilst mine filled with tears. Even after nine years, my time with her felt too short. Nevertheless, I attended school the next day – pretending like nothing ever happened.