So you've found the perfect Midtown apartment: it's affordable, has its own hot tub and personal butler, and you're already on drunk-texting terms with the super. Oh, and it's got a first class view overlooking Central Park. (Shameless plugs galore.) As you're about to move in, though, and you remember a crucial detail: the contracts didn't say the apartment was pet-friendly! What are you going to do with Fido?
You can't ditch your apartment: your landlord could dish out all those dirty secrets you drunk-texted him. And you certainly can't abandon Fido or Abby; pet shelters won't even take exotic animals. Where would Abby go, to hang out with the other seals in NY harbor?
You've got only one choice. You're going to have to sneak them in.*
*For the less adventurous of you, there's also the option of just renting a pet-friendly apartment.
Sneaking Your Pets Into Your Pet-Unfriendly Apartment
Getting Your Pets Into The Apartment
Moving Abby up to the fourteenth floor isn't a problem. She's normally pretty lethargic anyways. Just put her in a box labeled SEAFOOD, and if anyone comments about the high-pitched squeals you can claim you've got a rare form of Tourettes. Getting Fido past the front office is a bit more of a problem. The receptionist won't possibly believe that you've got high pitched Tourettes, bark like a tiny dachshund, AND are functional enough to rent a high-class apartment. You're going to have to go around to the back, climb up the ladder, and walk him up fourteen flights of fire escape. For a dachshund, this is like climbing the Empire State Building on one leg, but at least you'll be together. If your pet can't be sneaked in the front or helped up the fire escape, your last resort is a Korean moving crane.
Settling Into your Non Pet-Friendly Apartment
So you've moved your pets into your new apartment successfully. How do you keep the neighbors and landlords from seeing them?
- Firstly, be as clean as possible. The last thing you want is your next door neighbor complaining about it smelling like fish, or getting hospitalized from a seal allergy. (Is that even a thing?) The less mess you create, the less they'll notice and the better the landlord will treat you if he finds out.
- Sneak your pets out for walks early in the morning, or in the middle of the day when everyone is at work. This will decrease the chances of people spotting you and reporting you to the landlord.
- The severity of enforcement of the no-pets rule is entirely up to the building owners. In your best interests, see if you can find how stringent your landlords are about enforcing the rule and cut down on noise and mess appropriately. This can be accomplished by releasing stray cats into the elevators and gauging reactions on the Richter scale.
- Play animal videos on full blast all day. This will result in your neighbors questioning your sanity, but will also help to cover up Fido's barking. It just might work.
What Actually Happens
Two weeks into your stay at Fabulous Apartments, the super enters your room to fix a broken water heater. He spies unopened dog food, a blanket with what appears to be dachshund hair all over it, and an inflatable kiddie pool with dead fish floating inside. Refusing to believe that you're actually just batshit crazy and enjoy eating dog food and dead fish while swimming in four inches of water, he calls the landlord to take your deposit money, charge you for the rest of the lease, and evict you for breaking the terms of contract. Oh, and then he throws in charges for damages to the apartment that were there when you got it, but you can't prove because you have a freakin' dachshund and a seal living in a no-pets luxury apartment in NYC.
Moral Of the Story?
Just get a pet-friendly apartment in the first place and save yourself all this hassle. It's incredibly difficult to hide animals in an apartment for any extended period of time (with the exception of beta fish and lizards), and the penalties for breaking the lease contract in upper-class NYC apartments typically ranges from eviction to eviction. It'll save you a ton of hassle in the long run, especially when you can't find a place to live with a couple of day's notice, end up sleeping in a subway station in Hoboken (don't even know if those exist), and eventually reenact The Pursuit of Happyness for the amusement of millions of middle-class white people who can't possibly feel your pain.*
*Will Smith, I mean no disrespect. Please forgive me.
If you're not looking to keep your illicit pet-harboring habits on the down-low, you may want to check out this article on great pet-friendly apartments by AddressReport.