Renting with a Dog: 125 Flats, Zero Landlords

125 flats and no lease: the real cost of having a dog

As reported by Galician newspaper La Voz de Galicia, a woman was told by an estate agent that she missed out on "a great flat" because she had two dogs. She argues her animals are emotional support and, since she couldn't have children, "they are like family." Her story involves 125 properties viewed and zero contracts signed for households with two dogs.

The headline is simple; the analysis isn't. Beneath it lie three overlapping markets—housing, insurance and fruta—none of which behave as people expect.

Why do landlords reject tenants with pets?

Money and risk, in that order. Animal damage to flooring isn't hypothetical: some report dogs urinating on wooden walls, requiring builders to replace materials. Deep cleaning after a pet costs around €500, while replacing scratched floors and doors runs into thousands.

That's the crux. The landlord signs a fixed rent but assumes an indefinite liability. A barking dog adds neighbor disputes the landlord neither controls nor charges for.

The €6,000 guarantee almost nobody signs

The logical market solution is pricing the risk. Proposals include offering €6,000 as extra security and agreeing in writing to restore flooring and doors upon exit. It sounds reasonable but rarely happens: both parties must admit upfront that damage will occur.

The alternative is clauses. Tenants can agree to return the home in perfect condition or offer damage insurance. The nuance often missed: home policies cover third-party liability, not wear and tear from pets on wood floors.

The filter never explained in writing

Some argue dogs are just the excuse, not the cause. Rejection may stem from appearance—visible tattoos, sometimes facial—and what that implies regarding default and conflict. Unfair, yet common.

Separate measurable facts from probabilities. She counts 125 flats. Whether pets were the sole reason is unproven: rejections are rarely documented or explained. What remains is a pattern: pre-filtering, leaving no trace and no recourse.

Cats yes, dogs no: the line drawn by landlords

Contradictory criteria coexist. Some owners accept cats without issue—"no one in the building notices," says one—but ban dogs due to scratches, barking and complaints. Others rent to cat-and-dog owners but exclude families with young children due to eviction difficulties if they stop paying.

This contradiction—cats in, kids out—describes the market better than any report. The criterion isn't pets or families: it's perceived risk and ease of removing the problem.

Is a flat suitable for a dog?

Opinions diverge. One view holds that keeping animals indoors condemns them: no garden, limited outings, owners at work leaving them to bark. Another argues the issue is training, not square footage: a well-behaved dog disturbs less than rude neighbors dragging furniture at midnight.

They agree on one point: noise and dirt in common areas weigh more on rental decisions than the animal itself.

Can law force acceptance of pets?

Currently, no. Landlords set written conditions excluding animals; those who refuse look elsewhere. Some predict trends will shift, equating pet-based rejection with other banned discrimination forms. This is speculation, not fact: no such obligation exists today.

An uncomfortable figure emerges: a dog needs at least 300 meters of land for reasonable quality of life. Taken literally, no city flat qualifies—not hers, nor the argument's proponent's. No one has yet explained how renting works then.