One thing I've failed to update people on is Nike's status here in the land of other cats. I thought it would be all-out war, but it seems to have turned into just an ongoing grudge. Nike doesn't like the other cats, and the other cats don't like Nike. It all works out evenly.
This was known to me. Nike doesn't like other animals. Period. But what has taken me off guard is her dislike for my housemates. In fact, she doesn't seem to like anyone who comes here. Hecck, it's possible she's simply tolerating MY existence.
None of us, however, will let her get away with being a grumpy kitty. Cody seems to find it most amusing to pick Nike up, cradle her, and declare, "Let the torture begin!" Then, much to my cat's dismay, he pets her. You would think he was twisting her ear, the way she meows her displeasure. And while vocalizing her anger, she does almost no fighting whatsoever. She lays there and takes it, with her greatest "fighting" action being that she looks around for some kind of aid.
I've been no help when it comes to her pleading eyes and howling. In fact, I often join in on the "petting her to death" method of torture, often telling her, "Yes, it's horrible. Someone who isn't your papa is giving you love, and it's agonizing." I usually toss in the line I've been giving her for years. "It's rough being a kitty."
But she's adjusted as well as anyone could expect. She still growls and hisses at the other cats, but she can finally be in the living room without reigniting the war. She occasionally chases after the smallest cat, Random, simply because she can. For the most part, though, Nike can be found in my room.
I have a theory about that. I mean, Nike will spend time lying in front of the door inside my room, positioned as she used to be when I would keep the door open in my Phoenix apartment. It's as though she's on guard duty, keeping my home free of any other animal invaders. And that, in her little kitty mind, is exactly what she's still doing. To her, my room is the "apartment" she and I share, and the rest of the trailer is "outside." Thus, she is confused and often needs me to escort hr to the kitchen, where her food bowls are. She just can't understand why I've put her food outside our home.
*sigh* I needed to give a lighter report that dwelling on the Julie situation. I want to call, but I am determined to give her a few weeks to cool down. While I remain adamant that I did nothing wrong, her perspective is that I did, and I will apologize...just not right now.