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Warning: Tragic tale of toy abuse follows.

Way back when Alfie was still a mere bump, I went on a shopping trip with my mum and sister to buy Stuff.

During that trip Alfie was bought a patchwork cow, which personally I think is one of the cutest soft toys he owns, and he seems to agree with me because Cow was his frequent companion on trips out and about.

Last week, I foolishly stripped Alfie's buggy and left his toys hanging from the frame.

Keith came in a little later and informed me that Harry had stolen them and and set about separating them into their constituent parts. Cow was one of their unfortunate number, and the lawn was littered with a leg, ear and cute mohawk tail.

I was gutted.

Despite her losses though, I couldn't quite stand to throw Cow away, so I put her through the wash (on the basis that if she made it through that it was meant to be) and returned her to my grateful son, who hasn't yet noticed that Cow now has only 3 legs and one ear.

Poor Cow.

Still she shall serve her little boy well, because jingly jangly friends come in all shapes.

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