What Raising a Rottweiler Puppy Has Reminded Me About Working With First-Time Homebuyers
If you’ve spent more than ten minutes around me, you know I labor under the false delusion that I can do anything with Jesus and a cup of coffee. It was under one of these delusions (or a psychotic episode) that I found myself bringing home a puppy. And not just any puppy.
Not a Golden Retriever or a sweet doodle of some kind or another. Absolutely not.
No, my dog of choice is a Rottweiler. Yes, an adorable black and tan tiny bear that will someday grow up to be a 100-plus-pound working dog. Just not the kind of working dog that’s super helpful to a modern family like us.
Needless to say, my sleep schedule is completely wrecked, my house looks like we have toddlers with the baby gates and random toys, and I run around in a perpetual state of high alert armed with Nature’s Miracle Enzyme cleaner.
However, the experience has given me some major epiphanies.
Lying in bed after the 3rd (or was it the 5th) potty trip outside with Sherman, the aforementioned tiny bear, I had this overwhelming sense of déjà vu. And then it hit me: Raising this puppy is exactly like guiding first-time homebuyers through the real estate market.
Before you think I’ve absolutely lost my mind, hear me out. There’s a method to this madness of mine. Lest you think I’m throwing shade at first-time homebuyers, rest assured, most of the parallels have to do with the way I, as a seasoned professional, respond or fail to do so. So without further ado…
1. They Hear You. That Doesn’t Mean They Understand.
This morning I had managed to get Sherman out to pee, fed him, and was barely pouring my coffee when I see him out of the corner of my eye headed towards my favorite, old, worn-out Converse. I know what plan is hatching in that pea brain of his, so I calmly say, “Leave it.” He looks right at me. He hears the sound of my voice. But his brain is actively processing whether the thrill of chewing my shoe outweighs my disapproval. Unfortunately, in my sleep-deprived, pre-caffeinated state, I neglected to attach him to the house line I have him on 80% of the day.
In other words, I had neglected my safety plan.
See, I’ve taught him “leave it.” We’ve practiced “leave it.” But I foolishly allowed myself to believe that this 14-week-old puppy with no body awareness, zero attention span, and zero real-world experience had mastered this.
It is the exact same energy as looking a client in the eye and saying, “Please do not open any new credit cards before we close on this house.” They nod. They say okay. Then, forty-eight hours later, you get an alert from the underwriter because they just couldn’t resist that 0% interest financing offer at the furniture store. All because I forgot something really important.
Experience makes us forget how much judgment depends on experience.
New buyers need a house line. They need to understand why they should not run out and finance new furniture, a new truck, or new appliances. They don’t know that a lender can reverify their credit and debts right up until closing, and if something screws with their debt-to-income ratio, well, the new furniture, appliances, and truck suddenly have no home to call their own.
2. You Have to Explain What Seems Painfully Obvious (but really isn’t)
There are certain universal truths in life that you assume adults and living creatures just inherently know.
And this is partially true.
For example, with Sherman, I found myself screaming “Don’t eat animal crap!” across the yard at dawn the other morning. With a first-time homebuyer, I once found myself screaming, “Do NOT decline the home inspection!” In both scenarios, I was left staring into the abyss, wondering why I had to clarify these specific life choices.
In both scenarios, my assumptions were the problem. Instead of putting Sherman’s long line on him the other morning in order to reel him back in when deer scat had scattered his brain, I had assumed that he’d simply obey the “come” command that he so beautifully knows. In the house. With no distractions.
With my first-time homebuyer, I had assumed they’d heard me when I said home inspections were important, conveniently forgetting their brain was already overloaded with pre-approvals, appraisals, and the gorgeous quartz in the kitchen.
And we all know what happens when you ASSUME….
3. They Get Distracted by Shiny Objects
Puppies have zero attention span when a squirrel, leaf, or dirt pile enters their field of vision. Everything else in the world ceases to exist.
Buyers operate on the exact same wavelength, except their squirrel is quartz countertops. A buyer will walk into a house, spot a beautifully staged kitchen with a waterfall island, and suddenly they couldn’t give a damn that the backyard backs up to a six-lane interstate highway. Or maybe it’s the stunning master bedroom. Whatever their emotional hot button is. I have to be the one to gently tap them on the shoulder and say, “Hey, look over here at the crumbling foundation, please.”
Just like puppies, first-time homebuyers don’t know what they don’t know.
4. The Complacency Trap: They Occasionally Make Excellent Choices
This is truly the backbone of the entire experience. Just when I am at the end of my proverbial rope, Sherman will do something miraculous. He sits perfectly by the door to go outside, waits for me to open the door, runs to his potty spot, and does his business. Immediately I’m thinking, “Wow, he’s a genius! We’ve turned a corner!”
The next day, a buyer calls me and says, “Hey, we saw a house we like, but we read the HOA documents first and noticed a restriction we didn’t love, so we’re going to pass.” I want to weep tears of joy. I’m over here believing I am the greatest mentor on the planet.
WARNING * WARNING * WARNING *
THIS IS A TRAP!
The universe has designed both of these scenarios to lull me into complacency. The very next hour, Sherman has peed in the shower, tried to eat the cat, and is currently jumping all over any human in the vicinity. My wonderful buyer is texting me a link to a FSBO house that is actively on fire, asking if they should write an offer.
Looking objectively at my puppy training and real estate adventures lately, I see a recurring theme.
Complacency is the enemy of success.
Complacency is the little troll that makes you believe that once your puppy (or your client) makes the correct choice once, they are fully trained (or educated in the process). Instead, you end up creating a situation that sets them up for failure.
5. They Need Boundaries (Even When They Hate Them)
When Sherman wants to sprint full-speed into the neighbor’s yard to chase…whatever, I have to hold the line. He may not like it, but the boundary keeps him safe.
Buyers don’t need those exact same boundaries, but they do need guardrails. They are, after all, not dogs.
Real estate is emotional, especially when someone is purchasing their first home. It’s easy to get caught up in the feelings when they don’t have experience to fall back on. My job isn’t to make the decision for them. It’s to slow things down long enough to make sure they understand the decision they’re making and what it could cost them.
Sometimes being a good agent means opening doors. Sometimes it means being the guardrail.
But finally…
6. They Grow Up
Despite the sleepless nights, the ruined baseboards, and the sheer chaos, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
Someday Sherman will be a big, steady, calm Rottweiler. That’s a little hard to imagine right now as I stand barefoot in the yard at dawn wrestling deer poop out of his mouth.
And someday my first-time buyers won’t be first-time buyers anymore.
They’ll call me three years later and say they’re thinking about selling. Or buying an investment property. Or moving because somehow they now have two kids and need another bedroom. And somewhere along the way, all those conversations about inspections, credit, appraisals, and shiny countertops became experience.
That’s the whole point.
My job isn’t to expect people to already know how to buy a house. It’s to make sure that by the time we’re finished, they understand a hell of a lot more than when we started.
And hopefully nobody eats any wildlife feces along the way.
The Overly Caffeinated Agent 