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 ?
Answer: I am writing this to help people understand how important it is to hold knives properly .I like to reminisce and Harpo is the memory that came to mind because he was blind .None of the above choices .I am recounting a few memories of him as he passed away and I miss him .