|This is Mozart my niece's cat|
Three years ago tucked away in the corner of the animal shelter, Paws n' Claws, he sat. The tinkling of dad's keys made him tilt his head to the side curiously. Dad shook the keys and he playfully reached through the bars with eager kitten paws. It was love at first sight.
I bestowed the name Mozart, my favorite composer at the time, on the growing black-and-white fur ball. Unlike most cats, Mozart barks instead of meowing. He often tears through the house as if the hounds of Hades were nipping at his heals, and plays a mean game of floor pinball when a chunk of ice hits the floor. Just, the mention of string can send Mozart spinning in anticipation.
As with most pet's rules of the house are up for discussion or debatable through a technicality. Life with Mozart is no different. The rule is no cats on the counter. Mozart's solution was to find a piece of paper or plastic bag on the counter and sit or lay on that; therefore, he's not technically on the counter. His largest feature is his white paws. One of his nicknames is Jazzy, which is short for Jazz hands.
Despite the flaws in Mozart's character, his positive attributes far outweigh any negative ones I could dwell on, especially when he curls up beside me at night and falls asleep.