Poor Sierra. She's been dealing so well with all the changes of the past few months, all the moving and disappearing of random stuff, all the commotion, everything.
Then, the cleaning ladies came this morning to clean our apartment. There's 3 of them, and they're making all sorts of noise, and I think they were the straw that finally broke the poor kitty's psyche. Sierra is currently hiding in the closet, terrified, using the same body language she does when she's at the vet. She won't even acknowledge my presence, just seeks solitude in the dark.
At least this way I know that the one place she'll prefer to be during our flight (TOMORROW!!!) will be in her carrier, curled up in a ball, down underneath the seat where it'll be nice and dark.
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