Buster

Buster belongs to my daughter.  He's a feral rescue.  There was a day when Buster wouldn't get close enough to anyone or anything, including food my daughter put out for him.  Being the persistent little thing she is, it took a couple of years but she won the battle and now Buster lives on plump cushions, good food and has a pile of cat toys the envy of his housemates.  Also, we've just discovered that Buster likes jazz.  My daughter plays jazz for him while she's at work.  I think pampered is the proper word for it.