By Kray

Sweet dreams George

I often wake up to this little floofkin asleep on my arm.

We have a routine. When I am just about to doze off he leaps on the bed, stands on top of my ribs like a mountain goat for a couple of minutes then lays down by my feet purring like a motorbike and we both nod off.

By morning he's curled up, often under the duvet, with his head on my arm, smiling at the cushty life he has!

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