FIV (Feline Immunodeficiency Virus) can be a fierce foe. Yet, it stands no chance against the warriors of Tabby’s Place. In naming cats with whimsy and joy, the virus’s teeth can be pulled one giggle at a time. Although, truth be told, not all of the giggles have anything to do with the cats’ names. Take Jed for example. Here’s a solid cat – heft-wise, that is. It isn’t that Jed is big, but he is a steady guy with some good musculature under his anything-but-solid tabby coat. As with all of the cats in Suite D, Jed has been trademarked with an FIV+ diagnosis. The very idea of the audacity of such a virus makes Jed giggle. Jed will make you giggle. He may be named for a TV hillbilly, or maybe to rhyme with his former suitemate Ned (ADOPTED!!), but either way he knows that he is safe at Tabby’s Place, where he’ll never have to go into battle alone.

There is no “alone” at Tabby’s Place.

Poppa Lay (unlikely to have been named for how to eat a certain branded snack) is surefire set on guaranteeing that no cat in Suite D will ever be in need of affectionate guidance. Poppa Lay is sweetness incarnate. This is exactly the best defense against any offense, even when one is offended by the presence of a retrovirus inside one’s very own self. Unfazed by any diagnosis, Poppa Lay gathers other cats around him like a magnet…a very soft, very tuxedo-y, absolutely perfect blanket of welcome. Sit quietly on the floor of the solarium, and, with a little gentle coaxing, Poppa Lay will encircle you by turning circles about you until you giggle in the face of a silly virus.

While you are enveloped in fatherly cat-love, glance over at the shelf where Emperatriz is basking. Her name says it all, whether or not she was named for a telenovela. “Emperor” is a military title, and Emperatriz heads an army of one – and occasionally Poppa Lay, although he often leads in their dance. She’s a fierce battler against FIV. For the record, Emperatriz is fierce period. Blanket statement. Besides out-fiercing Beyoncé, an orange collar reminds human warriors to be wary. But, with patience and caution, slow blinks can be exchanged with this green-eyed tabby, who is learning that she isn’t standing solo in the face of her negatively positive status. In fact, Emperatriz is surrounded by other tabbies who are in the same predicament of having a gnarly diagnosis.

Chicken Nugget and Cornbread are deliciously unaware of their shared predicament. They are also blissfully oblivious to the fact that their combined names equal about a third of a happily unbalanced lunch (Note: We need a pair of cats named Mac and Cheese…and maybe Turnip Greens too). Both are equally unaware that their names induce giggles. They themselves induce giggles.

Cornbread’s reticence for human interactions makes one giddy at the least slow blink and rare pet. Chickie Nuggie’s entire existence is giggle inducing. The big boy laughs in the face of all viruses and absolutely everything else, except dinner. Dinner is miraculous and wonderful, but it isn’t funny when he has to wait for an eternity and a half from the most recent snacky tidbit to the next feast. Both Nuggie (Yes, his name devolves as delight increases) and Cornbread laugh in the face of FIV. They laugh in each other’s faces too. And, they laugh at the people who named them and nicknamed them.

The colorfully named, slaphappy crew in Suite D has recently been joined by a solid black cat. Lucky day! A 5-year-old male showed up at a job site, but he was ill suit-ed to the task. Instead, Midnight has been suite-d where he can join the good fight of proving that retroviruses are undeserving of cheeky, cheerful, charming names…or even a name that elicits images of the darkest skies and silky fur in one swell foop. Such names are reserved for the champions who battle to demonstrate that FIV has as few teeth as a cat that has no teeth.

Toothless or no, armor in the form of the highest quality healthcare is helpful in fighting FIV. So, too, are good diets, cleanliness, and amplitudes of affectionate attention from fellow felines and humans. All told, FIV need not be fearsome. Whoever named the current cat residents of Suite D should consider giving FIV a suitably mocking nickname, something like Feevy. Then, we can join together in looking Feevy in the face and giggling away while we enjoy many healthy, happy years with our furry feline friends

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