This is Geordie curled up asleep in a crumpled dustsheet. I remember learning a poem by Eleanor Farjeon when I was at junior school called Cats Sleep Anywhere.
Cats sleep anywhere, any table, any chair.
Top of piano, window-ledge, in the middle, on the edge.
Open draw, empty shoe, anybody's lap will do.
Fitted in a cardboard box, in the cupboard with your frocks.
Anywhere! They don't care! Cats sleep anywhere.
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