When You Leave, I Hide: Helping Your Cat Cope with Pet Sitter Stress

Lucy
Sep 7
4 min read

Here’s the Scoop:

How Lars went from cautiously shy to full-blown hider
Why one well-meaning photo triggered a downward spiral
A year-long journey of trial, error and emotional growth
Practical strategies I’ve tested...and what showed promise
Hope for anyone in the same boat (or…house)

When Lars Was Just a Little Guy

When we adopted Lars and his sister Zigrit, we already had a cat sitter we trusted deeply. She’d been with us for years...she knew our house, our rhythms, our cats. She was part of the family. Lars, being young and still figuring things out, eventually accepted her as part of his new world. At first, he hid. Then, over time, he’d perch halfway down the stairs to watch her from a safe distance. Eventually, he’d lead her upstairs and roll around like a little flirt while she pet him.

It took a while, but it was heartwarming to see.

And then...she sadly moved away.

Enter: The New Sitter

Our new sitter is truly amazing. I can’t emphasize this enough...she is kind, calm, attentive and deeply respectful of our home and our cats. Each cat had their own timeline for warming up to her.

Butabi? Instant love. He’s a food guy. She had food. Case closed. Zigrit? Mild curiosity, but she can’t resist a novel toy. Zazzles? He's always cool and aloof, but he accepted her eventually. And then there was Lars.

The very first time she came over, I (naively) asked her to take a photo of each cat so I’d know they were okay. Innocent request, right? But that meant she went upstairs to find Lars, who was hiding, and tried to snap a photo.

I truly think that one moment imprinted in his nervous system like a little cat PTSD.

He was terrified. He dove under a blanket and barely moved for three days. I watched on our cameras. He drank water a few times. He used the litter box once or twice. But no sign of food being touched. For three days. I was panicked.

We cut our trip short and came home early. I felt like I had failed him.

A Year of Trying Everything

That incident kicked off a year-long process of researching, analyzing and trying every possible strategy to help Lars feel safer when we leave.

Here’s a short list of the many things I’ve tried:

Creating a designated safe zone upstairs with food, water, litter box and his favorite hiding tent
Instructing the sitter not to go upstairs at all (ever again)
Placing a worn T-shirt of mine in his space before leaving
Plugging in a Feliway diffuser upstairs (we already had them all over downstairs)
Talking to him through a camera speaker (which may have creeped him out even more, let’s be honest)
Timed treat dispensers to encourage nighttime exploring
Playing calming music during the day
Setting up an automatic feeder to provide structure without human presence

None of these was a magic bullet. But something interesting did start to happen over time.

His New Nighttime Pattern

Eventually, I started seeing Lars on camera every night, after the pet sitter had left. He’d sneak downstairs and energetically patrol the house, sniffing everything she had touched. It was like he was conducting a full forensic investigation.

But during these hours, he also began:

Eating a bit
Drinking water
Using the litter box

It wasn’t nearly enough food...he was only eating maybe 30–40% of his normal daily intake...but it was something. Enough to get us through a short trip without total panic. So, for the past year, we’ve kept our trips to just 2–3 nights max.

The Emotional Toll

To be honest, it’s been exhausting. Not just logistically, but emotionally. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried in frustration, wondering if I’ll ever be able to take a relaxing trip with my husband again.

I’ve wrestled with guilt, anxiety and feeling trapped. Because how do you enjoy your vacation when you know one of your beloved pets is huddled under a blanket, too afraid to eat?

I’ve Googled everything. I’ve tried everything. And more often than not, I ended up feeling discouraged because the online advice didn’t work for my cat.

Some Hope (Even if it’s Slow)

The truth is: this is still an ongoing journey. I haven’t solved it. But I have seen progress. The fact that Lars comes out at night now. That he eats something. That he’s not totally shutting down. That gives me hope.

I’ve learned that for some cats, the answer isn’t quick or clean. It’s slow and layered. It’s learning your cat’s unique emotional wiring and creating a customized, compassionate response.

And honestly? I believe the Lord has been teaching me so much through all of this...about sacrifice, patience and what it means to love even when things are inconvenient. Maybe especially then.

Takeaway Treats:

If your cat has anxiety with pet sitters, you’re not alone and there is hope.
Don’t be afraid to create a dedicated hiding zone. It might feel like giving up, but it can be empowering for your cat.
Small signs of progress, like nighttime roaming or eating, are wins. Celebrate them.
Avoid direct contact if your cat isn’t ready. Let the sitter care for other cats downstairs.
You might not get a fast fix, but even a 10% improvement is still improvement.