I recently sent in a story about my ferret Sandy and her "comical antics"
with stuffed animals.  Her is a poem from Sandy.
 
My friends are stuffed and lifeless,
but they are my best friends,
they play whenever I ask them,
never wanting my fun to end.
 
I play with them in secret,
whenever my owner is away,
I carry them to the living room,
where we play all night and day.
 
They play as long as "I" want to,
they never get tired or bored,
and I always with the games we play
cause I don't count the points they have scored.
 
Then again the time has come,
my owner returns from "his" play,
and all around the living room,
my friends so lifelessly lay.
 
I pretend I'm happy to see him,
I dance and jump all around,
but I know he knows my secret,
cause all of my friends he has found.
 
I return them to their place of rest,
under the bed upstairs,
there they wait for our next play time,
when it is?  They really don't care.
 
 
Russ Latham & Sandy - Salem Oregon
[Posted in FML issue 3197]