Fluffy and M but of course, pure Scottish cashmere. Perish the thought my little prince might snag a claw on lambswool.
I make do with Primark pillows, while Captain Cute has a duckdown cushion for his arthritic hip.
Fluffy bad luck with the catflap and the small-hours petcare scenario. Just as you stagger bleakly through the day, eyes like sandpaper, whole being drenched with cosmic depression, ASBO will find a sun-filled spot to snore in, within your full view. And wake up refreshed for tonight.