No, I do not want to purr for you. It is clear that you only see me as serving purpose regarding entertaining you with affection of the kind *you* want, a narrowed perspective that precludes you from appreciating that I am more than a lap toy—I am an imagineer deft at utilizing my raptorial, retracting paw-claws for procuring offerings to two-feets who proffer acceptance rather than expectations. That you are not able to understand that a cohesive connection with you can only exist to the degree that you provide at least a scratching post’s distance between us at all times is what merits your current snub. If you are not able to come to terms with the requisite points for being allowed in my presence, I will be forced to excavate a prize from a reptiliferous source with which to lace one of your chows, a situation intended to induce, in you, a bloody hairball that might let you know the degree to which I am serious about remaining in a state of cat-stance, a socially approved distance between felines and their flunkies. ; )