One year ago today, we found out that Scrappy, our formerly feral cat had FIV, the feline immunodeficiency virus. The good news is, he’s alive and healthy!

Scrappy’s early years are shrouded in mystery. I’m not certain whether he really was a feral cat, or whether he might have been an escaped cat. When he first showed up in our back yard, he was essentially starving, and very, very timid. He wouldn’t even come inside our back patio door to get fed, and wouldn’t tolerate being picked up (although he would just squirm, he wouldn’t scratch). Over a period of weeks and months, I slowly gained his trust, and he would begin to tolerate brief, and finally increasing amounts of time inside. We took him to the vet and found that he was neutered. It’s not uncommon for strays to be captured, neutered, and have their ears notched and re-released (Scrappy has a notch in his right ear). But he remained an outdoor cat for the most time. He would very nearly hyperventilate when put into a cat carrier.

But he was a fighter (hence the name “Scrappy”). Once or twice a year he’d get in a squabble with some other cat, and end up with bites on his face or front legs, and scratches, and I’d have to give him antibiotics, and occasionally keep him inside (where he’d squawk incessantly, and climb walls and get very upset). After one of these episodes, he had a persistent skin infection, and I took him to a different vet, where he was tested for FIV. He came back positive.

I was very sad, since I’m very partial to Scrappy.

I was told that I shouldn’t allow him outside, both for his own protection and to prevent the spread of the disease. FIV leaves him susceptible to infections, and the best way was to isolate him from any of the dangers that he normally is exposed to.

Well, housebreaking him was a challenge. First was teaching him to use a litterbox. We placed one in the upstairs bathroom, and would periodically place his paws in it. He would immediately squirm and bolt. He cried at the door to be let out. No, strike that. He’d wail. He’d howl. He’d beg. He’d cry. That went on for three days.

Then, he figured it out.

His skin cleared up. He added about a pound. We tried to make sure he had lots of toys and physical contact to make sure that he remained stimulated and not bored. He went through a brief period of time where he would howl in the middle of the night, but I got a small squirt gun and a couple of nights of that, and he got the hint. Now, he wakes us up at around 7:30 every morning (not too bad).

He’s healthy and happy. Now that the weather is improving, I’m taking him out into our back yard for a bit of supervised grass sniffing. He isn’t actively trying to get out most of the time: we’ve left doors open accidently, only to find him sitting on his chair or on our staircase when we search for him.

I’m beginning to wonder if I should have him tested again: his health has been so remarkably good I’m wondering about the possibility of a false positive. But then again, we’ve been treating him as if he is, and there is nothing else we could do, so maybe it doesn’t matter. The only real change I would consider if he wasn’t FIV is maybe getting a second cat to serve as a companion for him. But my outdoor stray has become an indoor “lap fungus”. And we are very fond of our furball.

Hope the next year for Scrappy goes just as well.

I’ve now continued the long tradition of blogging about our pets.