Rudolf's Revenge

Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough.
Cough, cough....
Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough.
Coughty-cough, cough, cough, cough.
Cough.
Cough-cough, cough, cough.
Cough, cough, cough-cough,
cough-cough,
Coooooooough
Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, Cough, cough,
cough,
cough.

After about an hour of persistant coughing I gave up lying in bed and came back down stairs. I collapsed into an armchair clutching my hotwater bottle and buried myself under my dressing gown, in a desperate attempt to quell my relentless coughing and permit the rest of the household to enjoy some peace and quiet.

Recently I traded in my old reindeer-themed hot water bottle cover for a new more sophisticated cherry red fluffy version.
Just one problem.
After only a few months the new cover is distinctly disintergrating. As a consequence I leave a trail of crimson fluff in my wake. Old Rudolph never betrayed me in this way!

Once I settled in the armchair my coughing stopped, but I knew if I were to return upstairs and lie down, it would recommence.

Unfortunately the best snoozing arm chairs in the house are located in the kitchen - the nocturnal domain of the cat. Once the humans retire for the night, this is kitty's kingdom!
As you can understand, the cat did NOT welcome the reappearance of Giant Mrs Sneeze.
Tiddles made her feelings VERY plain by departing in high dudgeon through the cat flap and out into the night. The cat reappeared a short time later, hoping I had seen the error of my ways and departed. However, to her disgust I was still there, enscounced in the arm chair, with no apparent intention of moving.
Tiddles climbed on to the chair opposite and turned her back on me, hoping I would just disappear.

Armchairs are for napping, not serious sleeping. I can testify to that, as during the night I awoke roughly every hour, if not more often.

Sometime around about 6am Tiddles decided that I had been cough-free for sufficient time to be rewarded by her condescending to climb on to my lap. At least I think that was when she appeared. It was not long before it got light that I was first aware of her arrival. The only clock in view was the timer on the oven. As this is at the opposite end of the room and I didn't have my glasses on, I was none the wiser. I also had no idea if it had been adjusted for the recent change in hour, or not.

Just after 7am the KHT appeared for breakfast.
"I thought you were a burglar!"
"Sat here, with the side light on, cuddling a hot water bottle?"
I had visions of dectectives following the tell-tale trail of crimson fluff...
On second thought they could track me down by monitoring the seismic activity resulting my coughing.
If all that failed, I am sure that the disgruntled cat would blow my cover...
or would it be Rudolf's revenge?