OMG it wasn't as bad as dead dog but our first house was horrific!
On moving day we were kept waiting for 7 hours to get the keys, when we did finally get them and got to the house, they had left a lovely clapped out rusting car on the front garden that categorically (sp) was not there when we viewed.
I could have whistled and the carpets would have walked out. The boiler was broken, the fire leaked carbon monoxide, the bathroom leaked, and hob didn't work.
You could jump in the middle of the living room like a trampoline on the very badly fitted laminate. The back bedroom had carpet upon carpet upon carpet in it and the furniture that she had so kindly donated to us was what can only be described as squalid.
She left
Childrens clothers dirty and worn, some stuffed under the carpets stained with faeces
A washing machine full of dirty clothes
childrens racing bed
A double bed masking a patch of missing carpet
Adult toys
Drug paraphinalia
Stubbed out cigarettes
Broken wardrobes
and a flea infestation.
The garden sewer drain had been blocked for some months meaning their toilet was blocked and so they emptied buckets of excrement in the back garden.
Silver fish had infested the kitchen and the house smelt like something had died in it.
We had baliffs round as she didn't change her address and if I ever see her again I don't think I could be held accountable for my actions.
It took, 5 skips industrial strength cleaner and lots of £££'s to put it right.
When we moved the second time, the lady had scrubbed the house from top to bottom and left us a bottle of wine. If I ever see her again I would kiss her 