'Nikko puppy'

The other night we were eating dinner at my parents' house. Colin was having a difficult time falling asleep for a much-needed nap in the next room. Every time he cried, my parents' dog, Nikko, would trot into the living room, just to check on the little guy making noise. Then the dog would quietly wander off until the next time.
Ever since Elise's first overnight at my parents' place, Nikko was very protective of her. Always keeping tabs on her, sleeping next to her pack-and-play and later the bed, wisely staking out a spot beneath her at the dinner table, bounding up and down the stairs ahead of her, waking and walking from my parents' room to Elise's room if he heard her cry out in the middle of the night.
Basically doing what good dogs do.
"Nikko puppy!" Elise would say when she'd hear his eager bark from the back deck when we arrived at my parents' house.
She really liked the dog. Oh, the dog got in her business plenty of times, knocked her over every now and then, and sometimes scared her. But in turn she was known to squeeze his mouth and nose in an odd display of affection. She poked his eyes a few too many times. Probably yanked on his tail plenty. He put up with it, most likely because he saw the giant scoop of food Elise would get for him and the trail of crumbs she sometimes left behind.
We don't have a dog at home, which is OK for now, but it's been nice to know my parents' dog is mellow enough to accommodate the gentle terror of a child.
Which makes the upcoming task all the more difficult.
Nikko died this morning. It was a rather sudden case of something called bloat, a common and often deadly ailment in some dogs. Basically, the symptoms started last night and my dad got Nikko to the vet this morning just as he died.
So, yeah, that pretty much sucks. He was the ideal dog for my parents at this stage and a perfect match for a house where small children sometimes roam.
We'll need to tell Elise about Nikko. She's old enough to feel loss but not old enough to comprehend. Sure, it's a dog, not a person, but it's a new lesson for her, even if she is just shy of 3 years old.
We'll do our best to tell her what happened, but Anni and my dad had an even better idea. Go right to Mr. Rogers. There is a series of Mr. Rogers books dealing with significant life events for young children. The book series includes one about the loss of a pet. My hunch is that will be her preferred bedtime reading for a good stretch.
For Elise's first birthday Anni and I got her a really nice stuffed animal. It's a collie, a "Nikko puppy," as Elise calls it. The idea at the time was she could have a dog at my parents' house and something that resembled it at home. She still has the stuffed animal, so I'm curious to see how she interacts with it once we tell her about Nikko.