Context: My little man Harpo was a small dog , his fur white with apricot tips . As he got older he became deaf , and maybe a little senile to boot - he 'd follow me too closely and be standing there , unmoving , when I 'd turn from the counter , so that I 'd often trip on him . I learned to hold knives and hot things prudently away from my body , and developed a strange gracefulness in my ability to avoid stepping on his slow - moving little self . " What on earth are you doing ? "

Question: What may be the reason I am posting about Harpo ?
Options:
0. I am writing this to help people understand how important it is to hold knives properly .
1. I like to reminisce and Harpo is the memory that came to mind because he was blind .
2. None of the above choices .
3. I am recounting a few memories of him as he passed away and I miss him .
Answer: 3