Our Cricket, part greyhound, part coyote. What a wonderful mixture of mischief and joy. She entered out life one day from the pound. Jim said she was going to be small, I said, oh no, look at the size of those paws. But with one look from those beautiful eyes, Away we went with a great big smile. Watching her patrol the yard was something to behold, As she blazed a trail from one end to the other. Always close behind was her little black shadow, Misty, our poodle, following wherever Cricket would go. Sometimes disappearing in the coyote dens, that dotted our yard where Cricket had been. What love and joy she gave us while she graced this earth. Now her time has passed and we bid goodbye. Her ashes to our Mountain Home will go. There with peaceful thoughts of remembrance we will watch as the Wind Spirit carries her away. Where she can run with her coyote cousins, forever free. We will smile and shout with joy as we watch her catch the wind. RUN, CRICKET, RUN SOAR, WIND SPIRT, SOAR October 7, 1997 6/85 - 10/97