Here in my rural patch of England I often carry out jobs in ‘country’ houses. Most of these are ex farmhouses bought by rich incomers – this puts up house prices, stops the locals getting onto the housing ladder, etc. I am sure you have heard all about it from the bumf in the newspapers. However you may think of them, they are the source of much high – end work for Alice.
Most rich incomers like to get a few animals. Why? We live in the country, now! Usually it is a decorative, slobbery and overweight golden retriever (add £100 to my fee) or an Alsatian ‘guard’ dog (add £200) or a very smelly spaniel, which likes to jump all over you (add £300). There will be one or two cats kicking around (no fee, unless they’re Siamese) and sometimes a few hens (no fee – I like hens).
Occasionally my clients will buy themselves a horse. Now that is quite a commitment to ‘country’ life – a horse is large, eats a lot, takes up no end of space and needs careful handling and discipline if it is not to become an equine version of a bulldozer with teeth.
One client had a really attractive grey mare (white lady horse), in the field next to her house. She made a lovely picture, quietly grazing against a background of lush meadow, oak trees and the mellow brick of the farm buildings. My client told me she had bought the mare eighteen months ago, and had only ridden her once. A small alarm rang somewhere in the depths of my mind – but the horse seemed so peaceful, and was at the other end of the field, so without further ado I stepped through the fence so I could view the house from the side.
Thunder? I thought – it was a very hot day. No, it was the mare, charging at me from behind, at full pelt, with her ears folded flat and her teeth bared. Even if you know nothing about horse body language, it was very obvious that she didn’t want me on her patch. I ran, making it to the fence just in time, dropping my clipboard on the way.
Cold with shock, I watched the mare pound the clipboard into bits, leaping and jumping on the spot, whilst squealing like a stuck pig. I threw stones at her to make her leave off and she fled, then continued to swear at me from the far corner of the field.
I nonchalantly walked into my client’s kitchen, and without telling her I had to protect myself with rocks from her horse, asked her why her mare was so easily upset.
‘Oh, she’s agrophobic’ she said, laughing. ‘She’s a sweety really!’
Sheesh. Shall I add danger money for horses onto my fee?
30 January 2007
16 January 2007
Cat Days
Although I draw the line at making friends with dogs (see last post) I do not have the same problems with cats. They either show polite interest or flee, without chewing your trousers or slobbering disgusting smelling saliva all over you.
With a bit of encouragement, they can help break the ice between yourself and the new client; for example:
Alice 'Oh, what a lovely cat! What is his/her name?'
Client (often smiling fondly) 'Tiddles - I've had him/her for 15 years, s/he's always so friendly. Have you any cats?'
And so on.
Recently I changed my opinion that cats do not cause a problem when working. At a survey recently of a small farmhouse, I was 'introduced' to two Siamese cats, both still young and very, very spiky. If you have ever seen 'Lady and the Tramp' where the Siamese trash the place and blame it on the dog, you will know what I mean. These were exhausting. At one point, one was hanging off my sleeve whilst I tried to take a measurement and the other was untying my shoelaces. I trod on one going down the stairs, the resulting yell nearly gave me a heart attack. It sounded as if I had murdered a baby. Both cats disappeared and I sighed with relief.
Poking into a corner next to a cupboard to get the laser tape against the wall, both cats exploded out from the gap and straight into my face. I jumped back and fell over. They both ran over my body and around the walls (without touching the floor) before belting out of the room.
Maybe I should ask prospective clients if they have Siamese cats.
With a bit of encouragement, they can help break the ice between yourself and the new client; for example:
Alice 'Oh, what a lovely cat! What is his/her name?'
Client (often smiling fondly) 'Tiddles - I've had him/her for 15 years, s/he's always so friendly. Have you any cats?'
And so on.
Recently I changed my opinion that cats do not cause a problem when working. At a survey recently of a small farmhouse, I was 'introduced' to two Siamese cats, both still young and very, very spiky. If you have ever seen 'Lady and the Tramp' where the Siamese trash the place and blame it on the dog, you will know what I mean. These were exhausting. At one point, one was hanging off my sleeve whilst I tried to take a measurement and the other was untying my shoelaces. I trod on one going down the stairs, the resulting yell nearly gave me a heart attack. It sounded as if I had murdered a baby. Both cats disappeared and I sighed with relief.
Poking into a corner next to a cupboard to get the laser tape against the wall, both cats exploded out from the gap and straight into my face. I jumped back and fell over. They both ran over my body and around the walls (without touching the floor) before belting out of the room.
Maybe I should ask prospective clients if they have Siamese cats.
10 January 2007
Dog Days
When dealing with domestic clients (those who want an extension to their own house, for example) the time spent on it is often far in excess of the time I allow in the fee quote. There are various reasons for this. One of the more unusual is whether or not the householder has a dog.
One client wanted quite a large extension to her bungalow, plus some alterations inside, making it potentially a nice, medium sized, reasonably lucrative job for me. I met her and prepared a fee quote. Nothing. After about six months, she asked me to visit again as her husband had died and there were changes to the brief. I arrived at her house, and she greeted me holding the collar of a large yellow dog.
‘Ten months old!’ she said delightedly. ‘My husband died so I thought I’d get a guard dog!’
I had that sinking feeling I always get when I hear the words ‘guard dog’. It usually means vicious, large, smelly animal with huge teeth and no manners, bought by someone who knows nothing about dog training, has little sense and doesn’t want to learn.
It was straining to reach me, barking, and I kept well out of its way. Eventually, she dragged it outside so we could talk in peace. I asked to look at the back of the house from the garden again, and she put the dog on a lead before I went out there – I am quite nervous of dogs and will not go into any space with one loose, especially a slavering, barking, ten stone nut like this one.
The thing slipped its collar and hurtled towards me. I tried to protect myself with my clipboard but it launched itself from about ten feet away and its enormous paws hit me in the chest. I was knocked flat. I dread to think what would have happened next if the owner had not grabbed it – she had to half strangle it with the lead to get it off me.
I walked out, got into the car and told her to find another architect. Sod the money – sometimes it’s just not worth it. Whenever I see a dog owning potential client now, I always add ‘danger money’ onto my fee quote.
One client wanted quite a large extension to her bungalow, plus some alterations inside, making it potentially a nice, medium sized, reasonably lucrative job for me. I met her and prepared a fee quote. Nothing. After about six months, she asked me to visit again as her husband had died and there were changes to the brief. I arrived at her house, and she greeted me holding the collar of a large yellow dog.
‘Ten months old!’ she said delightedly. ‘My husband died so I thought I’d get a guard dog!’
I had that sinking feeling I always get when I hear the words ‘guard dog’. It usually means vicious, large, smelly animal with huge teeth and no manners, bought by someone who knows nothing about dog training, has little sense and doesn’t want to learn.
It was straining to reach me, barking, and I kept well out of its way. Eventually, she dragged it outside so we could talk in peace. I asked to look at the back of the house from the garden again, and she put the dog on a lead before I went out there – I am quite nervous of dogs and will not go into any space with one loose, especially a slavering, barking, ten stone nut like this one.
The thing slipped its collar and hurtled towards me. I tried to protect myself with my clipboard but it launched itself from about ten feet away and its enormous paws hit me in the chest. I was knocked flat. I dread to think what would have happened next if the owner had not grabbed it – she had to half strangle it with the lead to get it off me.
I walked out, got into the car and told her to find another architect. Sod the money – sometimes it’s just not worth it. Whenever I see a dog owning potential client now, I always add ‘danger money’ onto my fee quote.
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