My seller called me at 11 PM the night before closing absolutely convinced she couldn't go through with it. Not because of cold feet about the move. Not because of money. Because she suddenly remembered she'd buried her hamster in the backyard in 1987 and couldn't bear the thought of strangers "living on top of Mr. Whiskers." I spent forty-five minutes on the phone discussing hamster burial relocation options. Forty-five minutes. We landed on her writing a heartfelt letter to the buyers explaining the approximate location and asking them to "respect the sacred ground near the rose bushes." I hand-delivered that letter with the keys. The buyers read it in front of me, looked at each other, looked at me, and the wife just said "we're getting a pool anyway." I have never driven away from a closing faster in my life. My seller still doesn't know about the pool. I will take this secret to my grave, which will hopefully not be in anyone's backyard causing problems for their realtor thirty years from now.