Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it to say
Weather eye am wrong or write.
It shows me strait weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid,
It nose bee fore too long,
And eye can put the error rite.
Its rare lea ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it,
I am shore your pleased two no,
Its letter perfect awl the weigh...
My chequer tolled me sew!

Cricket is 26 inches high, 60-70 pounds, and she will guide her master everywhere, and will live in the bedroom of Cheryle King, who lost her sight earlier this year to multiple sclerosis of her optic nerves.

While the idea of seeing-eye horses may sound bizarre, Janet and Don Burleson of the Guide Horse Foundation in Kittrell, NC, say Miniature Horses have a wide field of vision from their two side-mounted eyes and can live 30-40 years, far longer than dogs.

Twinkie was the first Miniature Horse the Burlesons trained for seeing-eye duty. They had noticed, on a horseback ride through New York's Central Park, how observant horses were.

"She learned quickly and can do everything a seeing-eye dog can do," Janet said.

The couple are training several other horses, including Cuddles, who is destined for a blind man in Maine.

Ozzie and Pat Straight of Winlock, WA, gave the horse (Cricket), worth about $6,000, to King in August. After her seeing-eye training, Cricket will be worth nearly five times more. The Burleson's nonprofit foundation is donating all her training.

Cricket eats about a cup of grain a day and politely begs for her favorite snack of Kellogg's Mini Wheats. She leaves for her training this month. (Sept)

King already owns three full size horses, that live in her pasture, although she said the sweet-natured Cricket can comfortably live in her house. Cricket is bonding right now with King, next summer she will be King's eyes. And King doesn't have to worry about stepping in anything. Cricket wears adult Depends (diapers) indoors.

"Thanks to her, I'll have my eyes back soon," King says.

Reported in the Wenatchee World Newspaper, Aug 30, 2000

There is a bridge connecting Heaven and Earth. It is called the Rainbow Bridge because of its many colors. just this side of the Rainbow Bridge is a land of meadows, hills, and valleys with lush green grass.

When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place. There is always food and water and warm spring weather. The old and frail animals are young again. Those who are maimed are made whole again. They play all day with each other.

There is only one thing missing. They are not with their special person who loved them on Earth. So, each day they run and play until the day somes when one suddenly stops playing, and looks up! The nose twitches! The ears come up! The eyes are staring! And this one suddenly runs from the group!

You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet, you take him or her in your arms and embrace. Your face is kissed again and again and again, and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet.

Then you cross the Rainow Bridge together, never again to be separated.

Day 752 - My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal. the only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisaction I get from shredding the occasional piece of furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another house plant and cough it up on the carpeting.

Day 761 - Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded, must try this at the top of the stairs. in an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to cough up on their favorite chair...must try this on their bed (again).

Day762 - Slept all day so that I could annoy my captors with sleep depriving, incessant please for food at ungodly hours of the night.

Day 765 - Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body, in an attempt to make them aware what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little cat I was....Hmmm. Not working according to plan...

Day 768 - I am finally aware of how sadistic they are! For no good reason I was chosen for the water torture. This time however, it included a burning foamy chemical called "shampoo." What sick minds could invent such a liquid. My only consolation is the piece of thumb still stuck between my teeth and the tiny bit of flesh under my claws.

day 771 - There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary throughout the event. I overheard that my confinement was due to MY power of "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.

Day 774 - I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit. the bird, on the hother hand, has got to be an informant. He has mastered their frightful tongue (someing akin to mole speak) and speaks with them regularly. I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room his safety is assured. But I can wait; it is only a matter of time! -< ï >-

The best way saving ahnimals is eating them.
Because what mankind is eating doesn't vanish.
That's the reason got much more chickens than eagles in our world.

People that live at the end of Dirt Roads learn early on that life is a bumpy ride. That it can jar you right down to your teeth sometimes, but it's worth it, if at the end is home...a loving spouse, happy kids and a dog.

We would'ny have near the trouble with our educational system if our kids got their exercise walking a Dirt Road with other kids, from whom they learn how to get along.

There was less crime in our streets before they were paved. Criminals didn't walk two dusty miles to rob or rape, if they knew they'd be welcomed by 5 barking dogs and a double barrel shotgun. And there were no drive by shootings, either.

Our values were better when our roads were worse. People did not worship their cars more than their kids, and motorists were more courteous, they didn't tailgate by riding the bumper or guy in front would choke you with dust and bust your windshield with rocks.

Dirt Roads taught patience.

Dirt Roads were environmentally friendly, you didn't hop in your car for a quart of milk. You walked to the barn for your milk. For your mail, you walked to the mail box. What if it rained and the Dirt Road got washed out?

That was the best part, then you stayed home and had some family time, roasted marshmallows and popped popcorn and pony rides on Daddy's shoulders. And you learned how to make prettier quilts than anybody.

At the end of Dirt Roads, you soon learned that bad words tasted like soap. Most paved roads lead to trouble. Dirt Roads more likely lead to a fishing creek or a swimming hole. At the end of a Dirt Road, the only time we even locked our car was in August, because if we didn't some neighbor would fill it with too much zucchini.

At the end of a Dirt Road, there was always extra springtime income, from when city dudes would get stuck. You'd have to hitch up a team and pull them out. Usually you got a dollar...always you got a new friend... on a dirt road.

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