Trixie 2007-2016
Friday January 8th we had to put down Trixie. She was a criminal mastermind, stealing bags of treats and stashing them under our bed. Once she tried to steal a beach umbrella but lost control of it when she tried to go down the stairs. Trixie was an exceptionally athletic and graceful individual. She could jump on top of a 6 foot armoire from a sitting position. She loved taking rides in the laundry basket or standing on my shoulders when I walked around the house. She was so light footed you barely noticed when she jumped on your chest at night. Trixie possessed a keen intelligence you could see burning brightly in her eyes, by far the smartest of our cats. She was extremely vocal and had us well trained. A different meow depending what she wanted, to be picked up for a ride or for treats or a tummy rub. A sophisticated lady, she always insisted sleeping on a pillow or person, just a sofa or a bed was never good enough. Trixie was a 7 pound cat convinced she was a 700 pound tiger. William Blake’s poem “The Tiger” says it best, forgive my editing of his work.
Trixie Trixie, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Trixie Trixie burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Little Trixie you will always burn bright in our hearts. Rest in peace.
Trixie 2007-2016
Friday January 8th we had to put down Trixie. She was a criminal mastermind, stealing bags of treats and stashing them under our bed. Once she tried to steal a beach umbrella but lost control of it when she tried to go down the stairs. Trixie was an exceptionally athletic and graceful individual. She could jump on top of a 6 foot armoire from a sitting position. She loved taking rides in the laundry basket or standing on my shoulders when I walked around the house. She was so light footed you barely noticed when she jumped on your chest at night. Trixie possessed a keen intelligence you could see burning brightly in her eyes, by far the smartest of our cats. She was extremely vocal and had us well trained. A different meow depending what she wanted, to be picked up for a ride or for treats or a tummy rub. A sophisticated lady, she always insisted sleeping on a pillow or person, just a sofa or a bed was never good enough. Trixie was a 7 pound cat convinced she was a 700 pound tiger. William Blake’s poem “The Tiger” says it best, forgive my editing of his work.
Trixie Trixie, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!
When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Trixie Trixie burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Little Trixie you will always burn bright in our hearts. Rest in peace.