First, my cat dies and the Weedwacker works and the air is let out of my chef's hat and Popeye's bye-bye and a turban's AWOL and the broccoli's cockamamie.
Now, paradise is being developed. There are new houses materializing next to ours in the adjacent undefiled woodlands.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Hd71EDMXWVVV_qgSIKbxJcxZ9CfgGoY_u3HIVwQyb9bGlP3EYQMBN99ZuNJUPsEtwhrvBZADIEiEfrKHKHVVC1q8fWOD0lAXdcy5BJZscTClEcqz5lgh0RS2uV90UBBZk-us/s320/CAT-and-Mike.jpg)
And where does that leave me?
Trying to explain why I was caught in a virgin forest, exposed head to toe, between a mechanical CAT and a finger.