It may not have been a real hug but it was the kind of hug that Phat Shanks could appreciate. Neither hard nor wobbly, it provided just the right pressure to snuggle into. A naturally enthusiastic hug from a small child would have been far too disruptive to the perfect cat dreams of infinite bowls and self sacrificing fish swimming in oceans of gravy, floundering in gelatinous pools of savoury gloop, all encouraged by friendly Mr Tickle’s flowing sling. Best of all Mr Tickle was the perfect companion, affable, soft and silent. Aah ZZzZzZzz z z .