It seems to be the way with our animals that something they feared and thought they hated suddenly becomes one of their favorite things to do.
Let me introduce Luna:
Luna was a stray who decided to come and live with us. We think she might have had a home at one time because although she wasn't quite 'tame', neither was she wild. Luna's story is a long one, I will leave it for another day. Suffice it to say that I became Luna's primary employee, the one she slowly allowed to get close enough so I could touch her. Her gaze is always wary, but she longs for our company.
One day I was hanging out in the hammock, and Luna was prowling around the terrace, looking for attention. I spontaneously picked her up and pulled her into my hammock - something I'd never done before. She gave me one horrified look (what's the matter with you?), leapt off my lap and took off. We were left in peace for the rest of the siesta.
The very next day, the house inhabitants resumed their positions from the previous day (aka siesta time in the hammock for the humans, with outdoor animals sprawled underneath). As I lazily gazed around, I spotted Luna - and she was getting ready to pounce...right into my LAP! Phlump - umph (she's heavy)!
Luna looked around, did a little kneading of my delicate abdominal tissues with her sharp claws, and then made herself comfortable. A sharp 'meow' told me she wanted to be stroked. So I stroked, but every time I stopped, she reminded me...'meow'. That cat enjoyed every single minute she was there, like she'd been doing it all her life.
And now, Luna will be nowhere in sight when I ease myself into the hammock. But within seconds, there she is. I don't know how she knows, because it's not like I make a lot of noise climbing in there; in fact, I try to do it in secret so I can lie there in peace. No such luck. I think Luna and the hammock have a secret code.