However, with nine kids and two parents who worked full-time, it was not to be. My mom didn’t want to clean up after one more breathing thing, and she didn’t trust any of us to take the initiative. I’m convinced that even though my older sister couldn’t keep her room clean to save her life (and sometimes I cleaned it for her myself to do exactly that), she could take care of a dog. However, we were not given the chance.

That is why, as an adult, I didn’t see the purpose of a pet either; until Elliot, the miniature Yorkie hopped through the snow and into my garage one cold January evening around 9:30 p.m.

We searched diligently for the owner. I know my heart would be broken if I lost my cute little puppy on a frigid January eve. We even took him to the animal shelter to see if someone would claim him. After 10 days, nobody came. So, me and my three girls happily took him home. He lives with my youngest adult daughter now.

There is something about a dog that makes a house feel less like a structure and more like a home. A house can have perfect trim work, flawless hardwood floors, and a kitchen island large enough to host a full-on family reunion with a wait list, but until a dog patters across it with muddy paws and complete confidence, it still feels a little unfinished.

In my own home, that honor belongs to Gracee the Husky and Charlie the Cocker Spaniel.

Gracee, the pure white Husky with arctic blue eyes, is athletic, intelligent and a bit cocky. She is convinced every open door is an invitation to outside adventure. She is a professional with the classic side-eye (the equivalent of eye rolling in a human) and a full conversation worth of yelping when she isn’t given the exact treat she wants (hint: it must be frozen, ample in size and homemade). Charlie, on the other hand, is our three-year-old Cocker Spaniel. He is expressive, affectionate, and completely territorial.

Together they bring something into the house that no contractor, designer, or home improvement show could ever replicate: love. When no one else is happy to see you when you get home, you can count on both. The quiet companionship of a dog resting beside you at the end of a long day is something that doesn’t show up on a property disclosure form, but it may be one of the most valuable things a home can offer.

Of course, love and property maintenance are not always perfectly aligned.

Gracee, for example, has required what could easily be described as structural accommodations to the home. Husky ownership, it turns out, involves a certain level of architectural adaptation.

In our case, that adaptation included three custom doggie doors. Three. Apparently one doggie door suggests convenience. Three doggie doors suggest a lifestyle. Along the way there have been carpet replacement, banister maintenance, railing touch-ups, and missing socks and shoes.

Gracee also has a special relationship with the central vacuum system, which she sends into overdrive on a regular basis. Huskies, as it turns out, express their enthusiasm for life at high speed, usually indoors, and often while shedding enough fur to construct a second, slightly smaller Husky.

Deep cleaning has become something of a weekly household tradition, the kind that involves moving furniture and discovering objects you don’t remember losing.

Charlie’s contribution to the chaos came earlier, during the puppy years. Anyone who has ever raised a puppy understands the phase where the dog believes the house is essentially a puzzle to be solved using teeth. Furniture legs, rugs, and the occasional misplaced shoe were all fair game. Those early months required constant surveillance. It felt less like pet ownership and more like running a small but determined security operation.

Despite all of this, there is one issue that tends to rise above all others when pets and real estate intersect: Smell, smell and more smell.

In real estate, this is the No. 1 thing to consider. Buyers may compliment the layout, admire the natural light, and politely comment on the countertops, but if there is even the faintest suggestion of lingering pet odor, the entire house suddenly becomes suspect.

It’s a little like scat on a hiking trail. It’s there. Not always obvious at first. But once you notice it, it cannot be ignored. Pet owners often become nose-blind over time. It isn’t a character flaw; it’s simply biology. The scent that fades into the background for someone living in the home can stand at full attention for someone walking in for the first time.

That is why deep cleaning, carpet treatments, and sometimes even flooring replacement become part of the selling process when pets are involved. First impressions matter. The market may forgive outdated countertops or overlook an awkward paint color. It will not forgive odor.

Cats, of course, bring their own set of considerations. A poorly managed litter box has a way of announcing itself well before the cat does. Cats are also known for leaving their artistic signature behind in the form of claw marks on trim, doors, furniture, and the occasional unsuspecting corner of drywall. And while cats themselves are often nowhere to be seen during a showing, the evidence of their residency tends to linger.

Of course, cats and dogs are not the only animals capable of leaving their calling card behind. Over the years I have walked through homes inhabited by fish, rats, ferrets, parrots, snakes, other reptiles, and the occasional exotic creature that required a specialized heat lamp and a warning label. None are specific deal-breakers in and of themselves (except for the snake that escaped), but like any pet, they leave reminders.

The interesting part of all this is that Gracee and Charlie are usually present during the moments of household remediation. They sit nearby, calmly observing as carpets are cleaned, floors are refinished, and various attempts are made to erase the physical footprints they have left behind.

Gracee tilts her head slightly, as if trying to understand why anyone would object to the perfectly reasonable amount of fur she has distributed throughout the house. Charlie simply looks pleased that so many people have gathered to entertain him.

And somehow, despite the repairs, the cleaning, and the occasional architectural adjustment required to accommodate them, the conclusion remains the same. The love they bring to the home far outweighs the evidence they leave behind, remediation notwithstanding.

Jen Fischer is an associate broker and Realtor. She can be reached at 801-645-2134 or jen@jen-fischer.com