In the still darkness, Little Polaris exhibits a practicality all his own.  His eyes invariably shine when they meet yours, as if they were somehow particles of the stars, drifting down to cheer you.  As you mull over the significance of such delightful camouflage, hold his paw, and calm yourself, and him.  Notice how polar-like the little pads, that he may better grip, and not slip, on the slick surfaces where his private life unfolds.  Perhaps you have much in common?  Finally the question is, "who's cuddling whom?"  Does it matter?  Does anything matter when you're holding someone tight...in the night?

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