Over the years, I’ve negotiated everything from wine refrigerators to tractors, chandeliers to front porch flower pots. But some of the most memorable items I’ve ever written into a real estate contract weren’t fixtures at all.
They were animals.
Real estate is rarely just about property. It’s about people and the lives they’ve built inside their homes. And sometimes, those lives include doves in an aviary, an old goat, or cats who have claimed the place as their own.
Contracts are structured and precise, but they also have to account for the realities of a particular property.
Let me explain.
The Doves
I was representing a Buyer when we came across a home with the most incredible aviary. (If you’re wondering, an aviary is a large enclosure designed to mimic a bird’s natural habitat.) This one was beautiful — white, regal, perfectly matching the home — and filled with a bevy of white doves.
What I learned quickly is that doves multiply enthusiastically. The Seller had to remove fertilized eggs daily to keep the population under control. So when my Buyer wanted the aviary — doves included — we had a logistical question:
How do you define the number of birds when they are "actively" increasing during escrow?
Animals, legally speaking, are personal property — just like a refrigerator or washer and dryer. If they are to remain, they must be written into the contract.
So I drafted:
“The bevy of doves in the aviary on the close of escrow shall be the number of doves included in the sale.”
Mic drop.
That is how you include very “active” animals in a real estate contract.
The Old Goat
My story goes from horny doves to an old goat. The next animal-inclusive negotiation involved a 5-acre country property and one remaining elderly goat. Over the years, the Seller’s menagerie had dwindled down to this lone old lady.
The Seller was going through a difficult personal chapter and simply didn’t have the bandwidth to manage rehoming her. Confident after my dove success, I wrote the goat into the counteroffer.
The Buyer promptly removed her.
Now I had 30 days to find this goat a home.
As often happens during escrow, this detail became a last-minute scramble. I called my drywall contractor, Ernie, who happens to live on 5 acres and shares my soft spot for animals.
Ernie agreed.
The day before closing, he arrived to pick her up. The goat refused the truck bed. So naturally, she rode across town in the back seat, head out the window, making her grand relocation.
She lived out her days among Ernie’s own collection of animals.
Problem solved.
The Cats
My final story is less humorous and more instructive.
We had a stunning one-acre listing in Morgan Hill — resort-style pool, lush landscaping, and multiple offers. The Sellers had two outdoor “working cats” who kept the gopher population under control.
We disclosed clearly that the Sellers preferred the cats stay with the home.
The winning Buyer agreed — even writing the cats into the contract per my instructions of how-to-write-an-animals-into-a-contract.
As closing approached, reality set in. The Buyer suddenly remembered they were “allergic.”
Here’s the issue: these aren’t throwaway items. They’re living creatures with attachment and responsibility attached. They should definitely not be used just to get your offer accepted.
Fortunately, we had hosted a Neighborhood Twilight Open House before going live. We met several neighbors — and it turned out multiple households were already feeding these cats.
With a simple addendum, we removed the cats from the contract, and the neighbors happily assumed care and ownership for the cats.
Problem solved — again.
The Point
Real estate isn’t just about square footage and price per foot.
It’s about people. Their transitions. Their attachments. Their animals.
Part of my role is anticipating the unexpected, thinking creatively under pressure, and solving problems calmly, whether that involves negotiation strategy or a goat in the back seat of a pickup truck.
Because at the end of the day, buying or selling a home is a life event.
And sometimes… it includes a bevy of horny doves.
