I just had
a temporary mini meltdown. It started
after my landlord sent me an email informing me of a few dates and times for
people coming to view my apartment. In 25
days, I will be moving. I gave my
landlord my one month’s notice just before New Year’s, informing her that Lucy
and I are going to try to upgrade our living style by February 1st. More windows, maybe more space? Enough room for Lucy to wag her tail without
it banging into something? The idea has
sounded great in theory for a couple months now, so I decided to bite the
bullet and go for it.
The mini
meltdown occurred momentarily after receiving the email when it suddenly occurred
to me that I am moving in 25 days. And I have no idea where I’m moving to. Suddenly that uneasy feeling I talked about a
few posts ago exploded into anxiety. I
scoured today’s craigslist listings, called several places, and emailed a
few. It wasn’t until about 30 minutes later
when I stepped away from my computer that I was finally able to calm down,
refocus, and tame my beating heart. I
reassured myself that in a large city like Seattle, one usually can’t find an
apartment until 15 days prior to a moving date.
I got used to this idea in New York.
I reminded myself that all of my moves have been up in the air like this—the
only difference here is that in the past I had a one year lease ending that
signaled finding a new place. In this
case, where I live on a month to month basis, I ended the lease. There is no practical difference here, I
think it’s just more nerve-wracking because I made the choice to move instead
of my pre-determined lease. I brought
this upon myself—it was not forced upon me.
Moving is
stressful. Moving is even more stressful
when you have a large dog to think about and a fairly limited budget. As dog-friendly as Seattle may be, most
landlords are not so dog-friendly.
Especially large-dog-friendly. I’ve
been keeping an eye on craigslist ever since I decided to move, and I’ve seen
some great apartments. Every time I see
a good heading and click on the link, the first thing I do is scour the words
for the dreaded “no pets” clause, or “cat’s only,” or even worse “small dogs
ok.” I almost always find one of these
statements, but the last one pisses me off the most. When a landlord decrees that small dogs are
ok, I can tell they are not dog owners.
The size of a small dog is very disproportionate to the size of its
energy. Do they think that a poorly
trained, little yappy bit of a dog is going to do less damage to their
apartment or make any less noise than a large, properly trained and mature dog? It infuriates me.
No, I am
not a landlord. I cannot step into the
shoes of a landlord and understand all their worries. I have no point of reference for this. If I reach into the depths of my mind, I can pull
out some sympathy for the landlord who doesn’t want pets. It’s certainly easier not to have to deal
with them. You never know what you’re
going to get, and some people are simply horrible pet owners. I get this.
But to specify that certain pets are acceptable above others, it makes
me incredibly angry. How would having a
dog like Lucy around be worse than a male cat that sprays everything in sight
and claws the carpets to death? Or a
mini dog that yaps at every person that passes on the street?
If
landlords are going to accept pets, I think there should be some sort of
screening process. Meet my dog. Talk to my current landlord. Talk to my former roommates. But don’t flat out tell me that my pet is not
accepted because she is not a cat and weighs over 25 lbs! This is discrimination, I tell you. It should be unlawful. Landlords cannot openly discriminate against
the people they rent to, so why should they be able to discriminate against the
pets?
Perhaps
these are just the anxiety-ridden ramblings of a woman in the midst of a
change, but it’s the principal of the thing.
Moving is hard enough…why make it harder on people who love their pets? After all, who would ever want to say no to a
face like this?
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