Months pass...

"What the f---? Are they out of their friggin minds? Where did the trees go?" said Pink, disgusted, as he peeked out the door. He stood, half-in and half-out, moving forward and then backing up. He stuck his nose out and sniffed. "Charlie wasn't here last night." Charlie, a big homeless Tom, visited regularly, attempting to claim ownership of the patio, spraying the pillars and sometimes even the door—the very door Pink and Cashew claimed as their own. The one they used to go in and out, and in and out, and in and out and in and out. And that's just the morning. ...

Cashew bobbed around behind, trying to see past Pink. "Thank God, that freeloader's gone," he said. "At least something good's come out of all that chain-saw noise and people shouting. Uh oh--look at that lizard. Let me out!!"

Pink turned around and hissed. "Will you stop crowding me? There's no place to hide out there now. Geez...all I can see are stumps. The grove looks like a scarecrow convention. Why didn't they warn us? My favorite spot by the oak tree is totally exposed now. Where am I going to sit?"

"Don't speak to them anymore!" said Cashew. "I'm not going to. Eat and sleep. That's it from now on!" He backed into the house, indignant. He was frightened but as cats are wont to do, he raised his back leg as high as it would go and licked his arse, glancing around casually to see if anyone was noticing his gymnastic moves. He made another attempt to push past Pink and get out, but Pink wasn't budging—he stood his ground, half-way through the door, muttering to himself.

"Do you mean––are you suggesting—no making biscuits?" said Pink, incredulous at the mean streak in his brother. "You can't mean we're giving up on purring? And curling up in their laps?"

"Yes, that's what I mean. Nada. Nothing. See how they like it." Cashew walked out of the room, tail swishing and continued his venomous diatribe. "Punish 'em. Double up in the annoying department -- bother them in the bathroom and run ahead of them into the closet to hide and walk on their computer keyboards and scratch our claws on the carpet, don't come when called and jump up on the kitchen counter and drink out of the toilet and fight with each other and all that kind of human-annoying stuff."

"...but, but...they have the can opener," said Pink, astonished at the stupidity of his sibling. No wonder they call him the Idiot, he thought. 

                                                               ******

Our avocado trees have been stumped and today the surgeons began painting them white and re-establishing our irrigation system. Although I miss living in a green bubble, it's refreshing to get

light in the house and recover some of the views hidden for years behind the huge trees. The cats, used to sneaking around as cats do, under the leafy cover, are a bit shell-shocked. They stick close to the house and crouch under the deck, muttering to themselves.