When you are a superstar, people are going to talk.
Were you really born with more toes than a tap-dance troupe?
Is your name short for “Jovial” or “Joe V.”?
Is it true that you came to Tabby’s Place directly from juvie?
And what do you really think about all things “lovey-dovey?”
As Jovi’s publicist, I would like to clear up a few rumors.
First: yes, all of those toes are real.
Second, he may be the shortest of our FeLV+ cats, but his name is not short for anything. His name is perfect. His name is the full and complete spelling.
It is a little known fact that Jon Bon Jovi liked our Jovi’s name so much, he borrowed it and added the “Jon” and the “Bon” just for fun. What do you mean Jon Bon Jovi was born 63 years before our Jovi? That is irrelevant. Next question?
Next, the matter of juvie. You should be ashamed of yourself for asking this question. You are going to give love a bad name. Of course our Jovi did not come from juvenile detention. Our Jovi is a model citizen. He is the president of the Honors Society, a peer mediator, and on the short list for three Nobel Prizes. His name is not the only thing that is perfect.
Well, there is the small matter of being a runaway. Can you blame him? When you are tabby striped and teenaged, it is your business to be a blaze of glory. Jovi fell in with a feral colony of fun-lovin’ outlaws. There may have even been an old marmalade rogue named Willie Nelson.
Just when Jovi thought he could get used to livin’ on a prayer, the trappers came. Jovi was not sure if they wanted him dead or alive. Friends started disappearing after dinner. Every giblet could be an act of treachery.
But even when you’re legendary, you get hungry, and one beef pate later, Jovi was in … no, no, not a trap. Let’s just call it a private jet. We are talking about a superstar here, one who has perfected the art of perfection. Capeche?
The trappers were eager to assure Jovi that TNR is a story of love. But these compassionate folks were about to be shot through the heart by a red dot on Jovi’s blood test. The wriggly rock star was infected with feline leukemia virus (FeLV). Putting him back outside would be bad medicine.
But where’s a Jovi to go?
FeLV is terribly misunderstood. Few shelters will take a chance on cats whose futures are uncertain. To boot, FeLV+ cats need specialized housing, to protect their suppressed immune systems while keeping them separate from uninfected cats.
This is the feline equivalent of a rock star requesting a dressing room with gold-foil peacock wallpaper, heated eyebrow massagers, and bowls of Honey Bunches of Oats with all the oats picked out.
If you think that sounds like Tabby’s Place, you’ve already predicted the miracle.
Now, as Jovi’s publicist, I am committed to the facts. Our honored guest did not exclaim “thank you for loving me!” the hour of his arrival. When survival has been the story of your life, you scour every bed of roses for thorns before getting comfortable.
That’s quite alright. We are all about offering living proof that love exists and persists through FeLV, fear, and even puberty. Jovi was born to be our baby. He would learn by intermission that we never say goodbye around here.
Which brings us to all things lovey-dovey.
When asked about affection, adulation, and total adoration, Jovi is on the record as stating the following: “It’s my life.”
But lest you think our teenage sensation is self-centered, merely basking in the limelight as staff and volunteers throw treats and underpants, remember: Jovi is perfect.
Like that other Jovi gentleman who aspires to be like him, our Jovi is not content to merely be a celebrity. He believes in giving back. And the best thing he can give is himself, directly applied to your lap. When Jovi gazes all melodic in your eyes, the lyrics fill the air: “I’ll be there for you.”
What’s the next stop on Jovi’s tour? Adoption, with fellow FeLV+ tabby phenomenon Sweet Pea. The boys have just found their forever family together. Who says you can’t go home?