The 'C' Word

Somebody Up There has got it in for me and has chosen the letter 'c' to be my nemesis. My old car quietly died on me at the end of last year and was replaced by a gorgeous 5 year old kingfisher blue Ford KA. (PS how do you pronounce that?) Six weeks, two breakdowns and a flooding later that car was sent to jail without passing go or collecting £200 and was replaced by another, a 4 year old Ford KA (I still can't pronounce it) which has now been back twice. It developed a non-functional door-lock, dodgy dashlight and gearstick top that pings off like the top of a hardboiled egg. The Boys at the garage have been lovely about all my return journeys, we're on first name terms now.
OK, just bad luck.
About the same time my computer became ill with what I am reliably informed is called the 'Blue Screen of Death' - and after a couple of attempted repairs it was decided to replace it.  The new computer is back at the PutaDoktaMan's workbench - for the second time in the 10 days since I collected it - being re-instructed in its new duties. I'm not sure it wants to be owned by me.
On Sunday last, my Cob (a type of horse, for the uninitiated) whom we shall call Hoss went down with colic. Colic for all equines is agony: they have an enormous mileage of gut in there and any distension of it is trouble. MrVetMan came out (twice) to sort poor Hoss out and thank you they have now both recovered from the experience.
So that's Car, Computer and Cob, surely these things only come in threes?
But I'm watching the cats very carefully ...