My goddaughter, who was three on Sunday, has a photograph of the late Blue on the window ledge in her bedroom.
"That's Blue!" she said. Then she looked up at me with widening eyes and spoke with a serious voice. "Blue died. Now he is playing forever with lots of other dogs who are his friends."
"That's Blue!" she said. Then she looked up at me with widening eyes and spoke with a serious voice. "Blue died. Now he is playing forever with lots of other dogs who are his friends."