Only the good

Steve Irwin is dead. Killed at 44 by a stingray while shooting a documentary up at Port Douglas.

I may be silly, but it's made me ridiculously sad. He was always a kind of mad, over-enthusiastic, rash, animal-loving hero to me, and I thought no animal alive could ever take him. But it finally did.
And I just think of his poor family. Children aged eight and three.

It's hard to believe that the Dr Dolittle of crocodiles is gone.