All I wanted to do was get this sad little girl's name right, knowing that I should avoid Googling Santorum I headed to Wikipedia. After reading what sick, demented shit these children are being subjected to being raised by Rick and Karen, I'm convinced the boy with the crazed look in his eyes will end up atop a bell tower with a sniper rifle, and the girls would be better off as Mormon Sister-wives.
So much for my original snarky take which has completely left my brain after reading this:
In 1996, their son Gabriel Michael was born prematurely and lived for only two hours (a sonogram taken before Gabriel was born revealed that his posterior urethral valve was closed and that the prognosis for his survival was therefore poor). While pregnant, Karen Santorum developed a life-threatening intrauterine infection and a fever that reached nearly 105 degrees. She went into labor when she was 20 weeks pregnant and allowed doctors to give her Oxytocin to speed the birth.
Karen Santorum wrote a book about the experience: Letters to Gabriel: The True Story of Gabriel Michael Santorum. In it, she writes that the couple brought the deceased infant home from the hospital and introduced the dead child to their living children as "your brother Gabriel" and slept with the body overnight before returning it to the hospital.
After seeing that, forgetting you left your dog on top of the family car seems like something out of a Chevy Chase film, and leaved me with the permanent impression the Santorums are a frightening mix of Amityville Horror, The Stepford Wives (original version) and Night of the Living Dead.
Not to make light of Mitt Romney's criminal neglect of his pooch (having just lost a dog myself to a hit-and-run driver) I feel obligated to link to Dogs Against Romney.