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 ? "

Based on the preceding passage, choose your answer for question What may be the reason I am posting about Harpo ?
Choose from: i. I am writing this to help people understand how important it is to hold knives properly .; ii. I like to reminisce and Harpo is the memory that came to mind because he was blind .; iii. None of the above choices .; iv. I am recounting a few memories of him as he passed away and I miss him .;
The answer is:
iv.