I don’t know about y’all, but I love a good story, especially when it’s a true one. Many of us have had some wild stories over our careers. Let me tell you about one that happened when I first got started in real estate.

Let me preface this by saying that if you know me, you know that I really care about people and I would never do anything to hurt anybody intentionally. When I first started in real estate 24 years ago, I was working as a buyers’ agent with a newly started real estate team here in Murfreesboro. There was a thing for marketing called Arch Telecom. This involved a 1-800 number rider sign that was on all of our listing signs. The buyer would call the 1-800 number and punch 1 to be connected to a Realtor.

On a hot summer day, a couple from Knoxville, Tennessee, who connected with me through Arch Telecom met me at my office. He was a retired preacher and his wife was a homemaker. He was a little bitty man. She was a fairly large woman who kind of had a wobble when she walked.

We sat down and had an in-person talk. Let’s call them the Zips (which is not their real name, but close to their name). They reminded me of the nursery rhyme:
Jack Sprat could eat no fat,
His wife could eat no lean.
And so between them both, you see,
They licked the platter clean.

As we talked, Mrs. Zip let me know that she is terrified of large dogs. This went back to her childhood. I’m just thinking “This is my first time showing houses to clients. I’m so excited!” She also told me she had a breathing problem and had an inhaler that she used from time to time, especially when she got excited. I was like, okay, no biggie, we can deal with that as long as she had her puffer with her and she didn’t get too excited, which I can’t necessarily promise (I can get excited about a fly landing on my desk, or pretty much anything). But what were the chances that we run into some large dogs which would cause her to get so overexcited that she would need her inhaler?

Mr. Zip had no ailments, and after a talk we all piled into my car with Mrs. Zip riding shotgun, and Mr. Zip sitting in the backseat.

So the first house we go to look at is located off Epps Mill Road, exit 89 off I-24. We got to the house in a timely manner and I parked the car. I notice there’s a chain link fence. Behind that chain link fence are two large Rottweilers who remind me of Cujo and his brother.

So, right off the bat, it’s not going too good for Billy Bones (a nickname that Jack and Pruitt Jones gave me years ago; I have no idea why) and his first real estate transaction . . . or should I say, real estate showing that will hopefully turn into a real estate transaction.

Now, I think to myself, these dogs are fenced in the backyard, which was a plus. I get out of the car and Mr. Zip gets out from the back. I go around like a Southern gentleman and open the door for Mrs. Zip. We are trudging to the front door to go view this home. It took us a little longer because Mrs. Zip got winded easy, but we all managed to get in to take a look at the house.

Well, Billy Bones should’ve done his homework because all the bedrooms were upstairs. Mr. Zip would’ve been fine going upstairs. It was Mrs. Zip that would have the problem. I was having a hard enough time getting her in and out of the car.

Long story short, we exit the home and get about halfway to my car. There’s still another 60 to 70 feet before we make it to the car when, for some reason, I hear dogs barking and I look over my right shoulder and these two Cujo-looking Rottweilers are galloping like Shetland ponies towards me and the Zips. I believe Mrs. Zip was pulling my leg about how fast she could move because she made it to the car before me or Mr. Zip did and she slammed her car door! Luckily, Mr. Zip and I made it to the car also and slammed our doors to make it safe from these Cujo predators, who, by the way had huge teeth.

One of the large beasts jumped up onto the side window, staring in at Mrs. Zip with his paws on the hood. As you can imagine, Mrs. Zip was hyperventilating, breathing like she just ran a race for her life.

All I could do was say “That was a close one.” I drove them back to my office in Murfreesboro. I asked them if we needed to go to the hospital because her breathing was still not right. They both said no, take us back to our car. Needless to say, my hopes and dreams of selling my first home that day were dashed because of two large Cujo-like Rottweilers who escaped their backyard. I never saw the Zips again.

The moral to the story is to always take someone with you who can stand guard and have your back when there are large dogs involved, or at least can distract any threats.

After all of these years, I’m so grateful to get this off my chest. I’m so glad we made it back to the office. If the Zips are still alive and are reading this, please forgive me.

Now, everybody remember to go out and do something nice for somebody else. Until next time, God bless you!