How one property’s furballs left an unforgettable impression on an apartment and an appraiser
Introduction
In the world of real estate, surprises abound. Industry professionals, especially appraisers, all expect the unexpected, but even the most seasoned professionals can stumble across situations that test the limits of their experience, composure, and their judgement. There are stories of haunted houses, collapsing ceilings, and outlandish tenant actions and decorative choices (Live, Laugh, Love), but the tale of the cat-soiled duplex stands out for its sheer yuck-factor. This is the story of what should be a routine property appraisal, which became cemented in my experience stories, due to its unfathomability and coated in an unmistakable, noxious layer of feline mischief.
The Setting: An Unimposing Duplex with a Dirty Little Secret
Nestled on an ordinary street in Fresno, CA, the duplex appeared unremarkable, and even what one would say was a well maintained exterior. The landscaping well cared for, the paintwork only slightly faded, and overall nicer than the typical multi-units I tend to appraise. From the curb, you would never guess what horror lurked inside one of the units. To be fair, I was ready for a mild hoarder situation, based on the trustee’s suspicions that he gave me over the phone. My trepidation and general worry about the unit only increased when the tenant was outside in her car, instead of in the unit. After we made introductions, I said I would come find her once I measured the outside. She stated that there was nowhere to sit in her unit, so I suggested she continue waiting in the car, and I would let her know when I was ready for entry into the unit. As agreed, once my sketch was complete, I fetched her from the vehicle.
The Appraisal Appointment: An Unforgettable First Impression
Although us Appraisers are trained to maintain our objectivity, there are times we must be non-objective, especially when it comes to our health and safety. This is what needed to happen in order to deal with this duplex unit. Back to the details of the story. Well, we were walking up the sidewalk together and talking about the interior. I had a pre-warning, as mentioned previously, about the potential for a hoarder situation, but she proceeded to explain that there were a few animal droppings around the unit, as well as “some clutter.” I was getting the feeling this was not going to be productive. I asked if I needed to grab a mask from my vehicle, which she said had masks and gloves by the door, which solidified my fear, but was not fully prepared for the apocalyptic horror which I was about to bear witness to. She unlocked the door, slowly pushed it open, proceeded inward, and I saw and smelled it.
I could only see the flooring in the opening and a few other spots around the living room from about a foot outside the threshold, the rest of the floor was completely caked with cat poop. The walls, ceiling, and windows were all enveloped by heavy spider webs in a variety of states, while some were fresh looking, others clearly blackened from a long life filled with dust, dirt, fur, and of course fecal matter. Also, you could see multiple patches of orange mold scattered throughout the walls and ceiling. I quickly replied I would not be going in there, because it was a danger to my health and safety, which somehow surprised her. She then went into what seemed to be a rehearsed tirade about she needed help, her disability did not allow her to pick up the mess, and that everyone she tried to hire rejected the assignment…