After a week of sunshine, waves, and much-needed rest, I came home to find that my new neighbor, Seth, had built a massive fence on my property. As a single mom, I couldn’t let that slide. And what I ended up doing made him plead for mercy.
Life as a single mom isn’t easy, but I’ve managed. I’m Kendall, 40 years old, raising my two boys — Dwight (10) and Mitch (8) — on my own. Their father and I split after I caught him cheating, but that’s a story for another day.
Two months ago, I bought a new house in a quiet neighborhood surrounded by trees and a peaceful forest. Everything felt perfect… until I met my next-door neighbor, Seth. We clashed from the moment we met.
I still remember our first encounter.
We had barely unpacked when he knocked on my door holding a folder.
“Hello there, neighbor!” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Seth. Welcome to the neighborhood!”
He seemed nice — or so I thought.
“I wanted to go over something important,” he said, opening the folder. “The previous owners signed a contract allowing me to build a fence on the property line.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Alright…?”
“So I’ll be starting construction next week,” he said bluntly.
I was stunned. “I’m sorry, are you seriously not asking for my permission?”
“I don’t need to,” he said, tapping the paper. “I have the contract right here.”
“That contract was with the previous owners,” I said. “I’m the owner now. And I’m not agreeing to a fence blocking my sunlight and my view.”
His face instantly reddened.
“But I need privacy!” he snapped. “I’ve been planning this for months!”
“Well, your plans aren’t my problem,” I said.
He stormed out without another word.
Since then, he’d argued with me nearly every week. Apparently, he wanted to host fancy garden parties and didn’t want his guests seeing into my yard.
Sorry, Seth — but I didn’t buy a house to stare at wooden boards instead of trees and sky.
And then things got worse.
A few weeks ago, I took my boys on a vacation.
“Mom, can we go to the beach?” Dwight asked.
“And build a giant sandcastle?” Mitch added.
“Of course!” I told them.
We left for a week — and returned to a nightmare.
The moment we pulled into the driveway, I saw it: a huge wooden fence towering right in front of our windows. On my land. Barely one foot away from the glass.
“What the hell?!” I shouted.
The boys ran to my side.
“Mom… we can’t see the trees anymore,” Dwight said sadly.
That hurt more than anything.
I had two options: wait for the legal process or handle it myself. And honestly? I didn’t have months to wait.
So I made a plan.
That night, I went to a pet store.
“Can I help you with anything?” the clerk asked.
“Yes,” I said sweetly. “I need the strongest animal lure spray you have.”
Back home, I waited for the neighborhood to sleep, then covered his precious fence in the pheromone solution — every inch of it. And I repeated this for several nights.
Then I waited.
It didn’t take long.
One night, I caught a stray dog enthusiastically marking the fence. Then came more animals: foxes, raccoons… even a moose once. Apparently, Seth’s fence had become the most popular bathroom spot in town.
Watching Seth discover the mess was priceless. His face turned purple.
But strangely, he didn’t take the fence down.
Instead, he started cleaning it.
Every. Single. Morning.
No matter how much he scrubbed, the scent wouldn’t go away. Animals kept returning. Soon, the smell became unbearable — even my kids noticed.
“Mom,” Mitch said, holding his nose, “it stinks outside!”
“I know, honey. Just a little longer,” I told him.
A few days later, I saw our other neighbor, Nate, banging on Seth’s door.
“Seth, what is that smell coming from your yard? It’s disgusting!”
“There’s been an animal problem…” Seth muttered, mortified.
“Well fix it! It’s affecting all of us!”
When Nate stormed off, Seth looked at me. For the first time ever, he looked… defeated.
That night, he spent hours trying every cleaner he could find. But nothing worked.
The next morning, I woke up to loud banging. I peeked outside and froze.
Workers were tearing down the fence.
I practically sprinted to wake up my boys.
“Dwight! Mitch! Come look!”
They rushed to the window.
“We can see the trees again!” Mitch shouted.
“You’re the best mom ever!” Dwight said, hugging me.
Later that day, as I was gardening, Seth approached me.
“Kendall,” he began awkwardly, “I… I want to apologize.”
“Oh?” I said innocently.
“I shouldn’t have built that fence without your permission. It was wrong. I promise I’ll respect your property from now on.”
“Apology accepted,” I said with a smile. “Let’s start fresh.”
“I’d like that,” he replied and walked away.
And just like that, peace was restored — along with our view.
That experience taught me something valuable: sometimes, life forces you to get creative to protect what’s yours.
So, tell me…
Did I do the right thing?
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