Amid mice infestations, female renters eke out existence
Face accusations that they’re being ‘hysterical’
Katie Kosel thought she had found the perfect apartment — until she discovered she wasn’t the only one living there.
Located on the third floor of a brownstone on Dartmouth Street, the one-bedroom unit seemed like the ideal spot for the staffing sales manager, 32, to soak up the South End’s charming ambiance. And it was, for the first four or five months. Then the mice moved in.
Kosel emailed the landlord and property manager and put out traps. The property manager set additional traps, but things didn’t improve. Kosel kept asking for an exterminator but was told that “wouldn’t do anything.” Meanwhile, mouse droppings covered the counters and littered the interior of the oven, forcing her to spend significant money on takeout. When the infestation spread into the living room a few weeks later, the landlord still refused to hire an exterminator, blaming a resident on the ground floor who had a dog. Frustrated, Kosel called her landlord and left a voicemail implying that she would stop paying her $2,000 rent on the 620-square-foot unit until an exterminator was hired.
That got her a response.
“Before I even said anything, he said, ‘Katie, you are being hysterical,’” Kosel recalled. “‘Why are you freaking out? It’s just mice.’”
Kosel’s story isn’t rare. Throughout history, “hysteria” has long been used as an umbrella term for women who exhibit a variety of symptoms ranging from anxiety to insomnia. During my own time as a renter in Boston, I received the same accusations. In my first mouse-filled Beacon Hill studio, the landlord recommended I borrow the neighbor’s cat. In my last rental, a beautiful $2,300-a-month unit in East Boston, the property manager made a point to tell me that mice are “pretty harmless” when I discovered a 6-inch space behind my dishwasher had been gnawed open. As my lease was coming to an end after six years, my landlord asked whether I could “help out” by paying more rent the following year. (I told him I was not willing to pay more amid an infestation.) Each time, it was implied that I was being hysterical for requesting professional help.
Earlier this year, Victoria Dominguez, 27, who lives in the Back Bay, spotted a mouse in her kitchen. When she emailed her landlord, who lives in New York, she felt the same dismissal.
“The first thing he said was that unfortunately, the mouse issue in Boston is the same or even worse than in New York. He said that he has friends who live in 20-story high-rises in Boston, and they still get mice,” said Dominguez, who was told not to leave out food. “I thought that all these things were just a very roundabout way of telling me that it wasn’t a big deal.”
When Dominguez inquired as to whether she should set traps, her landlord told her “It wouldn’t help.” Eventually, he sent an exterminator, who discovered a 6-inch gap in the wall behind the oven.
“It was so big that the exterminator said he couldn’t cover it with copper wire,” said Dominguez, who also had to purchase functioning smoke and carbon monoxide detectors. That was back in May. It still hasn’t been addressed.
Sometimes tenants will go to great lengths to deal with the issue. When Canton native Jenny Wolczki received her Spotify Wrapped for 2023, she learned that her most played song was an ultrasonic noise meant to repel mice.
“Every time I reach out to my leasing company, they’re like, ‘Oh, you know, we’re working on it,’” said Wolczki, who lives in Maryland.
While some stories border on the hilarious, others tread into tragedy. For people with issues like asthma and allergies, mice can be a significant health hazard. Dr. Robyn Riseberg, founder and pediatrician at Boston Community Pediatrics, was thrilled when a family of five she cares for found a rental that accepted their Section 8 voucher. The landlord said the unit would be fixed up by movein day, but that wasn’t the case. The 11-year-old daughter’s asthma was triggered so significantly by the constant mouse feces that she ended up in the ICU twice.
It’s a common story for Boston families living in poverty.
“I wish this were an anomaly. It’s not,” said Riseberg, who noted that mouse droppings were found in the crib of one of the children. “The landlord always says, ‘We’ll send an exterminator.’ And I sort of roll my eyes.”
When the landlord refused to let the family out of their lease, Riseberg started making phone calls. The Boston Housing Authority caseworker told her they could potentially “make an exception because she’s been so sick.” A phone call to the Office of Housing Stability helped expedite the case, and the family was allowed out of their lease. Of course, that meant they had to find a new place to live. But in a city where a housing shortage has exacerbated the level of desperation, residents are more likely to tolerate rodent issues to avoid homelessness.
Certainly, many Boston landlords are dealing with tenants who don’t properly maintain their homes, leading to rodent infestations. But for those tenants who do care for their spaces but still deal with pests, experts recommend avoiding the inclination to withhold rent. Mac McCreight, a former lawyer for Greater Boston Legal Services who still volunteers with the organization, said the tenant must take proper action to document the issue, put it in writing, and then contact the Board of Health. Without following the proper protocol, it becomes a “he said, she said” situation.
“I think landlords have definite liability if they don’t deal seriously with complaints about rodents,” McCreight said. “The main issue for many residents is getting the kind of documentation that they need.”
Some tenants are afraid they’ll be retaliated against for going to the Board of Health or Inspectional Services. However, rules restrict a landlord from retaliating if you’re in good standing as a tenant, McCreight said. But if you’re already delinquent, don’t expect concessions to be made in your favor.
Ultimately, Kosel didn’t withhold rent. After spending about $3,000 on an Airbnb, she moved with her boyfriend into an apartment they love in South Boston to the tune of about $4,200 a month. While that current unit has mice, too, the landlord is doing something about it this time.
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