Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Sebastian the Snorkie have one thing in common: they make me feel every emotion there is. Imagine it, your first real pet and your first real experience with music being that of the same; it is magical.
We adopted my dog Sebastian in September of my freshman year in high school. We drove all the way to Connecticut just to pick him up- he is that cute. I remember coming home from marching band practice to find a thin little dog in my home. I cried holding him in my arms, that was the first of my emotions.
My mom made me listen to Mozart from before I was born. "Baby Einstein" was full of music like Bach, Mozart, and Gershwin, all of which I enjoyed. However, my heart was with Mozart; I'd always be happiest when he was playing. I'd kick and laugh and cry within my cradle, those were the first of my emotions.
One day, I came home from school to find my mom extremely distressed about my dog. I remember asking her what was wrong and I remember all of the fear and sadness I felt immediately after. She told me that the German Shepherd across the street had my dog within the grasp of his teeth. My dad, a seemingly tough but actually soft man, saved our dog without harming the other. Warmth, heart, and passion had overcome me, all because of this dog.
It was my sophomore year of high school when I heard Mozart's "Symphony number 40" for the very first time. I couldn't believe how much I loved classical music; after having a repertoire of only Broadway music and George Gershwin, I was happy to move on. The swells and the story being told were unlike anything I had ever heard — amazement, excitement, and curiosity. Playing Mozart gave me chills in itself, but playing his music with a group was simply put- euphoric.
Whether I was crying with my dog about a breakup and using him as a makeshift tissue (sorry, pup) or dancing alone in my house to Mozart's "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik," I've always had an infatuation with both. Who knew that dogs and classical composers could have a teenage girl in common?