Cats Can Teach You Emotional Trust

It was 2019 and my parents surprised me with a tiny, fluffy cat —a 2-month-old kitten. He was a rescue tabby cat from a local shelter, with wide green eyes, huge ears, and paws that wobbled when he walked. Enchanted by the exceptionally heartwarming movie ‘The Lion King’ I named him Simba. As a child typically imagines, I thought he would be my best friend right away, like in fun cartoons where cats play, fetch and sleep on your bed.

The first few weeks were full of mess and trouble. Simba acted like our house was his big empire. He ran super fast across the living room at night, knocking down all the cars in my collection and ripping the new curtains my mom put up. One evening, he jumped on the kitchen counter and grabbed a whole plate of chicken rice we made for dinner. He pulled it under the sofa, leaving rice everywhere! I got very angry and shouted at him. I even tried to push him away. But Simba got scared. He hissed, ran away, and hid under the bed for a long time. I felt so horrible that day. I got annoyed about the fact that I was not able to interact with him. Even if I tried he would not listen. Incidentally, my uncle had a friend who was a veterinary doctor. He explained to me that cats need trust and kindness, not yelling or hitting. Being mean just makes them more afraid and hurts your friendship. He suggested simple tips which I could apply step by step. Back then, pet training was an unknown concept in our city.  

The technique that fascinated me the most was using sounds and treats to guide cats. I made a special training spot in the corner of my room. I bought a scratching post with rough rope. I added catnip toys and a clicker from the pet shop. The clicker makes a quick "click" sound. At first, he did not care. I would sit there clicking for 20 minutes while he played with my shoelace. But I kept it short: just 5 to 10 minutes a day. Slowly, he started to get it. He would touch the post, hear the click, and look for his tuna treat. In a few weeks, he rubbed it on his own! This simple habit kept our furniture safe and let Simba feel proud of his own spot.

Play time was super fun and helped a lot. Cats love to hunt, so I used a toy wand with feathers on a string. We played chase for 15 minutes, two times a day—morning and night. This made him tired and stopped the crazy night runs. 

When Simba was two years old, one day, he pounced on my hand by mistake instead of the toy. I did not pull away or yell. I stayed calm, gave a treat, and showed the toy again. That moment, I saw his tail relax. He started watching me for what to do next. It was fun to watch how we were learning to anticipate each others’ moves. 

It was this engagement that saved the curtains in our house. But the best part was not tricks. It was our bond. Whenever I was put off due to my academic performance, he jumped on my lap, purred loudly like a bike engine, and licked my hand. It felt like he was sensing my sadness and consoling me. I had never imagined that cat purrs would make me feel better & calm my worry.

But not all days were easy. One night, Simba got out. It was during Diwali time when we had left one of the windows open. I assumed that he slipped away while all the family members were busy lighting up the house. I searched the streets for a few hours, calling his name and crying. I could not sleep the entire night. I did not know how to handle my own conditions of guilt and grief. The restlessness made me look at our photos again and again. That made me cry even more. The next morning, we got a call from my neighbour to inform me that Simba was found sitting in a corner in his garage. The first thing that I checked was if he had bruises or wounds on his body. He was cold and shaking but okay.

When we got home, he bumped his head on me and gave slow blinks, which probably meant "I love you" in cat talk. For the next hour or so he sat and slept in my lap while I was explaining to my parents the series of negative thoughts about Simba that had sprung in my mind last night. Losing him for a night made me realise how deeply connected we had become and how caring for another life also meant learning to manage my own fears and emotions. This episode left a strong impression about what it is to share a bond. In fact, as a single child, this bond reshaped my understanding of companionship. Simba was not just a pet who lived in our home; he became a quiet teacher who showed me that true connection grows when we respond with kindness rather than force.

Simba taught me many things without ever using words. He taught me to be patient, gentle, and calm. Caring for him helped me understand emotions, his and mine. He changed the way I see relationships forever. Over time, our relationship became less about training and more about trust.