We had a beautiful Silver Tabby called Rover, well, I say we, I really mean I found him, starving and flea ridden and "gave" him to my Dad as a birthday present! I was only 13 and my Dad has always insisted that he is not an animal person. Rover took ages to feel at home, about 3 seconds, and as soon as Dad opened his mouth to order this creature from his house this scrap of a thing used his last burst of energy to claw his way up Dad's trouser leg and jumper to fall asleep on his shoulder. I didn't see a lot of Rover over the next few weeks as he was either resting on Dad's shoulder (Dad would then feel obliged to go into his bedroom so the cat wasn't disturbed!!) or there was a total panic as he had vanished (Dad had taken him to the vet and wasn't going to admit to that!).
By the time he was a constant in the house he would leave food, toys, cuddles... anything...if Dad said his name. Dad wouldn't go to bed unless Rover had shown his face and Rover could retrieve, search and find his ball (hence the name!). None of this, according to Dad, was any of Dad's doing. Funnily enough we didn't believe Dad especially when we could creep up on him and watch him during training sessions!!