This also applies to wild animals/birds you might encounter in your garden. The feral city pigeon with the distinct white spot on his head will never love me, and will probably never be brave enough to eat from my hand. But I don't feed him in the hope of making him love me. I feed him because I love seeing him, doing his little spiny walks on my balcony, cooing up a storm, and not flying away immediately when I open the balcony door to bring him some seed. His presence brings joy to my heart, and I'm blessed to see him every day.
I'm not naïve enough to believe an animal can love me the same way a human can, but to know it trusts me enough to feel safe in my presence is an honour I strive to maintain as a sentient human.