Hello, Alisa reminds me of my girl kitty, Piqua. She also absolutely hated being picked up, and would not sit on my lap. She loved to be admired, petted, played with, as long as we didn't try to pick her up. Strictly on her terms. As you can imagine, taking her to the vet was a real project, but fortunately she was always very healthy! She mellowed out some in later years, but the real shocker was when I had rotator cuff surgery. She was about 10 then. When I was sitting in the living room in a semi-conscious state from the drugs, she and our other cat jumped up on the chair arms, and she sat on my lap. She also slept on the bed on the cushion I had along my side so I would't roll over on that shoulder. She would never get closer than a few inches beyond arm length before then, in bed. A few times during the night I would wake up to find her looking in my face, or even touching me with her paw. As I recuperated more, she withdrew some, but she was always a little friendlier than she had been. She would sleep on a pillow up by my head at night, and sometimes I would wake up to find her looking in my face a couple inches away. And that's the way it continued until she died at age 15. She loved us, and we loved her, but that was just the way she was.