It took this one a long time to just get up onto my lap - two years, in fact. And it took that long before I ever heard her purr.
Now she is around six years old and has been with me for three years. She went from being very timid with us to being decadently spoiled by me.
Her most severe guilty pleasure is our "good night" routine. I turn off the TV in the front room (the living room) around 7 p.m. and I move into the back bedroom, to the PC. I catch up on emails and such, and I play music. She loves music. After about an hour, she comes in and announces that it is "quality time."
I march dutifully into the living room, sit my old self on the floor, and begin to brush her highness. Often, I sing to her. Yep. Her favorite is Knick Knack Paddy Whack. I vary the lyrics, and usually sing something like "...give the girl a phone," instead of "give the dog a bone." She also loves Old MacDonald. Go figure.
We both enjoy these sessions. It makes me slow down and that helps me slide into night time mode. For her, it's like reading a child a bedtime story. We talk, too.
Eventually, she turns her back to me, announcing we are finished. I clean the brush, get up from the floor with as much dignity as I can manage, and turn out the lights. I go into the kitchen, nearby, bring her a few last treats, plus her two "rolling treat dispenser" toys. She plays a bit and we are both ready for bed.
The thing is - at any other time, she is not lovey dovey. Except if she decides she wants lap time, maybe twice a day, for about a half hour each time. And that is at her discretion.
Otherwise, I let her do her thing because I have lots of things of my own to do.
So, we are basically two females who are rather independent.
That is, until we each need each other.
Or maybe I should say, until she needs me.
Maybe she's more independent that I am.