By now, you may have heard via the ever-popular Facebook, or just on "The Street", (a hipster term being used by a non-hipster) about an unusual incident in which I was involved last week.

Said incident (fancy legal phrase being used by a non-attorney) occurred when this writer (an outdated, first-person term used by bad writers) fell on a cat.

Yes, that's right…I FELL ON A CAT.

Luckily, I was not wearing a hat, or it would have been, I FELL ON A CAT WHILE WEARING A HAT, HOW 'BOUT THAT? (With apologies to Dr. Seuss.)

It all happened in a blinding, but painful blur.

I was walking out of our back door last week when I glanced down and noticed my nemesis-which is a cat named…wait, it doesn't have a name…so I shall call it "Day Tripper," since I really like the Beatles, and said incident (there I go again…) happened at daytime.

"Day Tripper" is an orange and white demon…uh, I mean CAT, which has been hanging around the house (along with its many deadbeat, feline friends) for quite some time.

Anyway, my son Evan's girlfriend, the incredibly awesome Storm Dutton, had just walked out of the house in front of me, and I was following her. (Evan, as usual, was lagging behind. He's silly like that.)

Storm was almost off of the porch as I stepped out of the back door, and felt something under my feet.

I looked down to see "Day Tripper" looking up at me with a sly, "Watch this!" glare.

Due to the brevity of the incident, I cannot say for sure, but I believe the cat executed what late Russell County Mighty Laker Football Coach Ron Finley called a "full body block" upon me, the unsuspecting victim.

With my quick, "cat-like reflexes" (That's a joke, people), I turned both my feet sideways in an awkward attempt to keep my balance.

I could feel the cat's head in front of my right ankle, and its tale brush against the back of my left ankle.

I was "crossed up" as they say.

Using my "stealth-like instincts" (That's another joke), I attempted to "pitch" my body backwards and grab the door frame-which didn't seem to be there.

The next thing I knew was that I was falling in slow motion, and I was waiting to see the cat dart away from the falling shadow that was me.

I fully expected to see the cat sitting several feet away with a paw pointed in my direction as if to say, "Hey, look out there, buddy!"

My "zen" moment was shattered by the force of my body clumsily impacting the brick surface of the porch…and a "cat-like" scream…which was from…the cat.

I FELL ON A CAT.

Its fur actually cushioned the blow (or so I surmised), and I could feel the cat struggling beneath me-all the time-clawing at me and shrieking.

"GET OUT FROM UNDER ME, YOU STUPID CAT!" I screamed.

"GET OFF OF ME, YOU STUPID HUMAN!" the cat screamed in its own, cat language.

This struggle continued for a few seconds as we, both in shock, I assume, fought to tear away from each other.

I saw a poof of fur in the air, and felt the car scamper out from under me and away-cursing at me in its own, cat language.

Storm turned to see me lying on the porch.

About that time, Evan exited the house, and assessed the situation with his keen intellect.

"Dude…did you fall on a cat?" he asked.

"I think I'm hurt," I said, struggling to my feet, and feeling a trickle down my leg.

I looked down to see a dark liquid caked on my calf.

"Yeah, I'm bleeding!" I said.

I reached down to wipe the blood away from my injured limb.

"That stinks," I shouted. "It smells like…"

That wasn't blood running down my leg, it was something…darker…browner…stinkier.

I did a quick reach-around to check myself.

Whew.

Not me.

Apparently, when I fell on the cat, it was much like someone stepping on a tube of toothpaste.

Closer examination found an explosive pattern of "cat poo" had streamed across the surface of the porch and splattered onto a nearby wall…several feet away.

C.S.I. be darned! Bring on the Luminol!

I do not know if the cat was injured, but can only assume it ran away from the scene to avoid dying on the spot of embarrassment.

Myself, I became nauseous when I realized I had:  a). Fell on a cat, b). I was now covered in cat poo, c). I had an epiphany regarding my mortality, d). All of the above.

I stumbled into the house to clean myself off, change clothes, and "google" the phrase "I fell on a cat".

Needless to say, the cat and I have avoided each other lately.

Pre-incident, the cat would always run to the door whenever she heard the door knob turn.

Not so anymore.

I wonder why?

Could be the time of year.

It's getting close to "fall," you know…