Goodbye Toto, Goodbye Peep
Totino gently warbled his last quiet song as he rested in my son's cupped hand. Half an hour later he would close his eyes to drift away from being that soft, warm, beautiful blue and yellow featherball, into the start of a memory. A final stretch of his wings, one last attempt at flight, a wriggle and then silence. "I think he's dead dad" Stillness followed where only seconds before the gentlest rise and fall…
