"...and your little dog, too!"

Earlier this summer - when we'd finished up 102 (the first vacancy of the summer) we received the good news that a woman named Margaret had signed a lease and was moving in that Tuesday.  Terrific news! 

The apartment was ready except for a shelf in the refrigerator.  At noon on Tuesday I dropped by to install the shelf in the fridge.   I knocked but there was no answer.  So I knocked again and let myself in - announcing myself as I went. 

I saw boxes, evidence that Margaret had started moving her stuff in.  But instead of human voice, or silence, I heard barking in response to my calls.  Not one dog - but two dogs, barking furiously from the kitchen.  And there, in a crate in the kitchen sat two little dogs yapping their little lungs out.  Sigh. 

After putting the shelf in the fridge, I went back to the car to find a paper.  I left a 'welcome' note on Margaret's door that went something like this: 

"Margaret - welcome!  I'm glad to have you here and hope you enjoy your time here, but the dogs absolutely cannot stay.  You must either get rid of the dogs or leave."

After posting the note, I promptly called the Property Manager.  She, being a more compassionate person than I, scurried around and not only found her another place to live that afternoon, but also sent her handi-guy out to help Margaret relocate the boxes she had already moved. 

I don't regret taking such an active stance on the first day.  Early in our landlord experience I was far more 'grey' and more willing to relent, but we've battled the dog owners so many times and literally paid the price, that the issue has become black and white, and shadows of grey have been washed away. 

So, the message is loud and clear.  Tenants are welcomed with open arms, but their little dog is as welcome as Toto in the Wicked Witch of the West's castle. 

Wanted: new tenants

Today marked the absolute donenatudeness* of our last vacant apartment.  The flooring guys installed carpet throughout the apartment on Thursday.  Today we did the final vacuum, installed a final few phone jack covers, and put drawer slides in the stove drawer so it opens and closes easily.  All in all, this apartment is sweet.

Now we need a tenant.  Our property manager showed it this week to the perfect tenants.  They liked the apartment and they seemed perfect.  Perfect, that is, until they said they had an 80 pound dog.  Screeeech.  The brakes locked up on that conversation.  No, no, no.  A small dog maybe - 5, 10, 15 pounds, maybe.  But 80?  To quote the Wizard's guard in the Emerald City, "Not no way. Not no how!"

Is there anyone left who doesn't own a big dog????

*Donenatudeness:  From the root word, donenatude.  Meant as a reference to something that is finished, or complete. 

How did Dad do it all those years?

I'm not sure how Dad did it all when he was younger - manage the apartments alone, that is.  Mom helped for a lot of those early years.  Both of them cleaned, painted, collected rents, posted eviction notices.  But in the later years mom couldn't do the physical stuff. 

Clear up until three months before he died he was still responding to calls for plumbing emergencies, no heat, etc.  He poured his heart and soul into those apartments.  I'm not sure if he enjoyed it or just did it because it was his retirement.  He was self employed most of his life and there was no 401k, no defined benefit plans, no PERA.  Just hard work. 

The biggest problem that we face with the apartments now is that Dad didn't really do it for the last 10 or so years. Not for lack of trying, but climbing ladders, painting, and cleaning trashy apartments is really more than should be expected of any 78 year old man.

So the maintenance issues just piled up over the last 10 years and Dad either did things just enough to get by or just ignored problems completely. But it's caught up with us now.  I've thought that I might have grieved more over his death if he hadn't left us such so much work to do.  Sounds kinda heartless, but honest.

So we spent the day getting #8 ready for a new tenant.  We did a walk through first then I scraped tile,  dug the nasty grout out from the bath tub and installed a new smoke detector.  Diego worked on some leaks under the kitchen sink and fixed a leaky bathtub in another unit that we discovered.  We called the glass company to measure windows to replace cracked glass. 

We're hoping to take tomorrow (Sunday) off from the apartments, but stuff just keeps stacking up. While we were working in #8, the gal from #1 said her oven door won't open and the garbage disposal won't work. We found the leak in the bathtub in #4, and Louise in #8 has a broken window.  Yikes!