A few years ago, I spotted an old sign on my street. Some of the letters were fading, but I could still make out what it said: “All dogs must be on a lease.”
So when we got our dog, Lulu, I made sure she put her paw prints on a lease. It has allowed her to stay with us for four years, sleeping mostly on a couch in the basement. But this year, after reviewing Lulu’s compliance with the legal agreement, I have informed our basement tenant that I will not be renewing her lease. As required by the State of Indiana, I have given her 30 days’ notice (7 months in dog years).
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Dear Lulu,
It is with deep regret that I must inform you that I will not be renewing your lease. These are tough economic times, as you know. Many landlords are increasing rent, trying to keep up with rising costs. But it’s not just about economics — it’s also about the rules of the lease that you have continually broken. Listed below are just a few of them:
Rule No. 1: “Rent is set at $300 per month, or the equivalent in love, affection and protection. Rent is due throughout the month, not just on the first of the month.”
You have given us plenty of love and affection, but you have fallen woefully short on protection. You bark at cats and rabbits through the window, but when strangers come to our door, you want to jump up and hug them. You want to lick them and smell them and say, “Help yourself to anything here. Just don’t touch the bowl in the corner. I’ll growl if you get anywhere near it.”
Rule No. 2: “The tenant agrees to do all business outside the home. Under no circumstances should any business be done on floors and carpets. If an emergency should arise, the tenant should stand in front of the door and shift weight from side to side, as if to say, ‘Let me out! My business can’t wait.’”
You may think you have followed this rule, but how many times in the last two months have you had to run for cover in the middle of a real-life horror movie called “Attack of the Demonic Carpet-Cleaning Machine”? The carpet-cleaning machine was so disgusted the last time, it threw up in the bathroom and begged me to return it to the store.
Rule No. 3: “The tenant must not beg for food or stare at other occupants of the house while they are eating. The tenant will be fed adequately (see details under ‘Room and Board’), but if the tenant is still hungry, the tenant may wait patiently beside her empty bowl, upon which she will receive either table scraps or a copy of a leaflet from the veterinarian entitled, ‘How to Keep Your Dog’s Weight Under Control.’”
This rule has been violated almost every day, partly because the landlady (my wife) always indulges you. But this does not absolve you!
Rule No. 4: “The tenant must not dig up houseplants from their pots in order to bury the tenant’s bone. If the landlord finds houseplants ripped out of the soil, the landlord will not be held responsible if any or all of the tenant’s bones are tossed outdoors.”
Remember the time I chased you around the house brandishing the stem of a plant? I thought you would get the message, but apparently you thought I was saying, “Why did you dig up just one, you lazy dog?”
Rule No. 5: “The tenant must take a bath at least once a year. A bath is mandatory if the tenant rolls around in something outdoors and comes home smelling like gourmet cheese.”
Getting you to take a bath is such a struggle. You really need to take a hint. When people visit the house and are wearing masks, it’s not because of Covid!
As you can see, Lulu, you’ve made a mockery of the lease agreement. Any judge would agree with me. So it’s time to start packing your bags. No begging please.
Awww … I said no begging please.
Okay, you get one more chance. But this is the last one!
