In Boston’s heart, a terrier named Pixel,
A fetching lass, with eyes of deepest brown.
Her love for games, a passion so textual,
In park or yard, she’s known throughout the town.

A frisbee thrown, a ball tossed in the air,
Her heart leaps high, her paws swift as the breeze.
No object thrown escapes her eager stare,
She’s ready, always ready, to appease.

Her joy is pure, as sunlight through a prism,
In every catch, her love for you is shown.
Her world’s a sphere, a fetching, spinning schism,
In every toss, a love that’s fully grown.

So here’s to Pixel, Boston’s fetching star,
Her love, like her, is caught no matter how far.