As I type these words, my cat Cub lies right next to the keyboard. He rubs his head against my hand, trying to get my attention. As I ignore him, he lay his head down to the desk again, happily panting.

Cub is a big orange cat, with long furs and brushy tail. With three strikes on his forehead, he looks like a small tiger. Cub has been with me for almost 5 years. The first week after I adopted him, he was quite upset in the new place. He kept moaning in the kitchen, looking at the closed door and the outside world. There is so much sadness in his voice as if something dear has lost. Now I understand he probably missed his old family.

I have always wondered what that family is like. Whoever they are, they must be very loving people. Cub has such sweet and gentle temperament that can only comes from good upbringing. A wild cat or a shelter cat learns to fight for their survival. They are typically fierce and aggressive. Cub is the most gentle cat I have ever seen. If he is annoyed by you, he simply walks away. It never occurs to him to fight back, like some other cat would do.  One time I forced him to take a bath. Like all other cats, Cub hates the water. But he did not fight my hand. Instead he stood there shivering, letting me run the water through his fur.  Seeing his suffering I felt so bad. Afterward I never forced him for bath.

The first week when Cub came to our place, he hided at the corner and evaded me. Then I touched his head, and he immediately liked my massage. He grew less afraid of me, and started to come next to when I sit on sofa. Soon he is everywhere I am, lying next to my keyboard, sitting on the dinning table next to my dishes , on the bed and on the sofa. His goal is simple and clear: my service of massaging his head. He gets such insatiable  pleasure from head massage, and keeps nudging me for it for hours. It really annoyed me sometimes.

For the 5 yeas we are together, Cub and I adapted to each other. I learned that he loves going out for a stroll and thus keep the door open for him. He learns to tolerate my pecking on his head as expression of affection.  He used to hate vacuum cleaner’s noise and ran out immediately at the first sound. Now he barely moves as I cleaned the room. He is less afraid of guests now. He used to hide underneath the bed, now he sits in the same room, keeping his eye watchfully on the guests.

I have always wondered when Cub will get old and enter his late stage. I wonder how I will feel and respond. For now, he is my companion and a joy in my life. That is all that matters.