Billy did his 5 AM "alone and unloved" meow yesterday morning. I ignored him. He solved his problem by coming up to the bedroom. The Good.
He parks his considerable bulk at my feet, clearly ignorant of the fact that I move around a lot, and that it bothers me to get weighed down by heavy blankets, much less 15+ pounds of cat. The Bad.
At the same time, I don't want to tell him to avoid the bedroom, so I go the bathroom (hoping he'll follow me). He doesn't. I came back in the bedroom, and sit down at the foot of the bed to stroke him. This yields 15+ pounds of happy relaxed cat with a friendly rich tenor rumble from deep inside him. The Purring.
The kid knows I'm a sucker for good purr.
(I cheated and used the bed room emergency kitty treat supply to get him to move.)