Mozart
He came to us from a farm in Carnation WA, part of an abandoned litter
from a passerby. The deal was $10 until you proved the neutering then
you got it back. He was a cuddler from the start, under my neck when I
picked him up at the farm.
He learned that he could hang on lever type door
handles and open the door if they swung away from him. He was always a
quiet cat, not talking to us much at all. If you were not in the right
position for him to curl up in your arm, he would gently pat you in the
right places until you were just right, then he would curl up.
If his curiosity got him shut in some
closet he would just wait until we missed him and went looking. We had
this long pantry type closet in Bothell and it had several doors with a good
inch under them for airflow. We had not seen him for some time and
started looking, I noticed a can of sardines edging out from under one of
the panty doors and opened the door. He was sitting there, waiting.
He had pushed it off the shelf to the floor and then just waited for someone
to come by so he could shove it out under the door to get out.
He loved to play in boxes, hide in them or just sit in them.
Suitcases meant that someone was going to leave him for a while so he would
occupy the suitcase or the lid and slow down or impede the packing process.
I called him a fur covered heat seeker, which he was.
Your lap, your arm, under the covers against your legs in the bed or the
Dryer. He would curl up on top of the dryer for the drying cycle and
wait for the buzzer. He was sitting up and waiting for that door to
open so he could go inside and burrow into the towels for a while until the
heat went away.
He loved to be brushed and would con multiple family members
to do it, acting like it had not happened yet today. He would sit on
the washer under the cabinet that held the comb and the treats, sometimes
patiently waiting. Sometimes he would open the cupboard and paw at the
comb in case you were clueless about what he wanted. I get up usually
earlier than my wife and he would con her into doing it again after I had
given him 100 strokes earlier. Her brother came over one day and
happened to pass the washer and he was trying to get him to brush him too.
He still played, loving to chase flashlights or the dot of the laser
pointer. When he was very young he would come up behind me and wrap
his paws around my calf then run away expecting me to chase him, which I
did.
If I was at my desk and he wanted some attention and
heat he would jump up into my lap. Soon he would get off there and sit
on the desk facing me. I normally was facing 90 degrees away at the
keyboard. If I did not give him enough attention I would feel a gentle
head butt on my arm or a paw placed there to remind me that he was there
waiting to be petted. He would then curl up in my lap and left arm and
resign me to mouse work and one handed typing.
Some days, I am sure that I can still see him patiently waiting on
the floor at my feet for the opportunity to jump up into my lap.
Barbara and Rick S.
