Last summer Fireball protested our move to South Carolina by bolting into the attic and hiding in the eaves. My daughter finally got him out after he scratched her and she hit her head on attic nails from our reroofing. He howled the entire 5 hour trip and peed the cat carrier and onto my girl’s cloth car seat. So, I should not have been as surprised as I was when I saw his face when I went upstairs at Chicken Creek to put him in the cat carrier to make the move to Martin’s Creek. He attacked my leg, ran downstairs and clawed his way out of the front door. I will always regret stopping to get toilet paper for the blood on my leg and leaving the front door just a tiny bit open. It has been 10 days and no sightings of Fireball. I posted on social media groups, put up flyers for area bicycle groups, and set up a trap at Chicken Creek. I hope with all of my heart that Fireball decided he was done with our family and adopted a new one that would not make him move twice in one year, and he is living out his golden years with them.
I wanted to reflect and write about some of my favorite Fireball memories, and it seems fitting to start with his most famous memory when he was the featured photo in the newspaper on Christmas day in 2012. The paper did a Your Best Shot feature for people to send in their photographs. My running buddy said I should definitely send in the one of baby Fireball in our Christmas tree a few months after he joined our family. Can you imagine what he thought when he saw us put up a tree inside the house and hang sparkling toys from it?
Fireball was a curious cat and ended up discovering some ground hornets once that stung him right in his eye. His eye was swollen shut when he came up to the back deck right around 5:30pm. I could not find the cat carrier, so I wrapped him in a blanket and rushed him to the local vet that was in the process of closing. I was that crazy cat lady. Fireball, of course, made a full recovery.
He did not like pet sitters and would hide from them. This meant he would be outside for days if we went on a trip. After a trip to Asheville where he got himself trapped somewhere and had to pull himself free to escape, his tail was broken and had to be amputated. For the rest of our family vacations, he went to the cattery at our local boarding facility which he tolerated with much disdain.
Fireball liked to roam, so I tried lots of different tracking devices to monitor his whereabouts. The last one I found ended up being the most effective (and the only one that actually stayed around his neck). I would check in on him during the day on the Tractive app and see him roaming 6-8 miles a day only on our side of Manns Chapel Rd.
When Smooch died unexpectedly in 2019, Fireball took over the role as the family dog. I will always cherish that time we had together. The only dog he liked that resided in our family was the basset hound George.
Being 6 mos apart in age (remember I collected 2 kittens, 4 chickens and a puppy the year I turned 40), Fireball and Banjo were the best of buddies. I could hear them wrestling and playing upstairs in the early morning hours.
Fireball had no desire to go outside at the Chicken Creek Compound. I don’t if he knew we lived in a national forest or if as an old man he was content to stay inside and be chubby and lazy. My heart hopes for the latter.
Thanks for the memories Fireball. And I hope you are out there somewhere living your best life that never requires moving again. I know I am never moving again after 2 moves in a year.