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]