After a week of sun and sand, Catherine was stunned to find that her new neighbor, Jeffrey, had built an enormous fence—right on her property. As a single mother, she wasn’t about to let that go without a fight. Here’s exactly what she did to make sure he never forgot the lesson.
Life as a single mom hasn’t been easy, but I’ve managed to make it work. I’m Catherine, forty years old, and for the past year, I’ve been raising my two boys—Liam, who’s ten, and Chris, who’s eight—completely on my own. Their father and I split up after I caught him cheating with another woman. That’s a painful story for another day.
Two months ago, I finally bought a new house. It was a dream come true. I moved in with my boys, and everything about the neighborhood seemed perfect. The street was quiet, the people seemed friendly, and the house sat near a beautiful forest where the boys could play. For the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful.
Then I met Jeffrey.
He was my next-door neighbor—and from the start, we were at odds. I’ll never forget our first meeting. We’d only been in the house for one day when I heard a knock on my door. I opened it to see a tall man holding a folder.
“Hello there, neighbor!” he said cheerfully, reaching out his hand. “I’m Jeffrey. Welcome to the neighborhood!”
I shook his hand, thinking how polite he seemed. If only I’d known what was coming.
“I wanted to discuss something important,” he said, flipping open his folder. “The previous owners signed this contract allowing me to build a fence on the property line.”
I frowned. “Okay…?”
“So, I’ll be starting construction next week,” he added casually.
I blinked. “I’m sorry, what? You’re not even asking for my permission?”
He raised the papers in his hand. “Well, I have the contract right here—”
“That contract was with the previous owners,” I cut in sharply. “I’m the owner now. And I don’t want a fence blocking my sunlight or my view.”
That’s when his friendly face turned red. “But I need this fence for privacy!” he snapped. “I’ve been planning this for months!”
“And I should care about what the former owner agreed to because…?” I asked, crossing my arms.
He didn’t answer. He just huffed and stormed out of my house. From that day on, it was war. Every week, he brought it up—his “right” to build the fence, his plans for fancy garden parties, and how his guests shouldn’t have to see into my yard.
Well, excuse me for existing.
I refused to let him block the view of the forest and sky that made this house special. But I had no idea how far he’d go until I came home from vacation.
A few weeks later, I decided the boys and I needed a break. “Mom, can we go to the beach?” Liam begged. “Yeah!” Chris added. “Can we build a giant sandcastle?”
“Of course, boys,” I said, hugging them. “We’ll do all that and more.”
We packed our bags, left our worries behind, and spent an amazing week enjoying the sun and the ocean. I had no clue that while we were gone, Jeffrey was busy pulling his stunt.
When we pulled into our driveway after the trip, I noticed something strange. My stomach dropped.
“Boys, stay in the car for a minute,” I said, stepping out. My blood boiled with every step I took toward the house. Then I saw it—and my heart nearly stopped.
There, right in front of our living room windows, stood a massive wooden fence. Built one foot from my house. On my property.
“What the hell?!” I yelled, not caring who heard me.
Liam and Chris jumped out of the car and ran to me. “Mom, what’s wrong?” Chris asked softly.
I forced a deep breath. I couldn’t lose it in front of them. “Nothing, sweetheart,” I said tightly. “Just a little… surprise from our neighbor.”
Liam frowned. “But Mom, we can’t see the trees anymore.”
That broke me. The view they loved—gone. The light, the sky, the forest—all replaced by an ugly wall of wood.
That was it. I wasn’t letting this slide. I needed to teach Jeffrey a lesson he’d remember.
I had two options: I could take the legal route and wait months for results, or I could handle it myself. As a mom with two kids and no time for court drama, I chose option two.
That night, I drove to the nearest pet store. I already had an idea.
“Can I help you find anything?” the clerk asked.
I smiled sweetly. “Yes. I need an animal attractant spray. The strongest kind you have.”
He raised an eyebrow but led me to the right aisle. I bought a bottle that claimed to attract dogs from half a mile away. Perfect.
Once everyone in the neighborhood was asleep, I slipped outside with the bottle and went straight to Jeffrey’s precious fence. I poured the entire thing over the wood, drenching every inch. The smell was sharp and musky—it was made to train dogs, but I figured it might attract more than just dogs.
I did this for several nights in a row, just to make sure the scent really sank in.
Then I waited.
A few days later, while taking out the trash, I saw a stray dog sniffing around the fence before lifting its leg. I couldn’t help but grin. “Good boy,” I whispered.
Soon, more animals started showing up—raccoons, foxes, even a moose once. They all seemed to think Jeffrey’s fence was the perfect bathroom.
One morning, I peeked out the window just in time to see Jeffrey discovering the mess. His face turned an impressive shade of purple. He grabbed a bucket and a brush and started scrubbing, muttering angrily. But no matter how much he cleaned, the smell didn’t go away. The animals came back every night.
After a few days, even my boys noticed. “Mom, it stinks outside,” Chris said, holding his nose. Liam wrinkled his face. “Yeah, can we play inside today?”
I smiled faintly. “I know it smells bad, honey. Just give it a few more days.”
A few days later, I saw Mrs. Thompson—one of our neighbors—storming over to Jeffrey’s house. I paused near the mailbox, pretending to check letters while I listened.
“Jeffrey, what on earth is that awful smell?” she demanded. “It’s coming from your yard!”
He looked completely mortified. “I—I’m working on it, Mrs. Thompson. There’s been some kind of animal problem.”
“Well, fix it faster!” she snapped before walking away.
When he looked up, our eyes met. For the first time since I’d met him, he looked apologetic. I gave him a polite smile and went back inside.
That night, I watched through the window as he went at the fence again—scrubbing, spraying, cursing. But nothing worked. Finally, he threw his brush down and stormed inside.
The next morning, I woke to loud noises outside. I peeked through the curtains—and my jaw dropped. Jeffrey was out there with a team of workers. They were taking the fence down.
It worked. My ridiculous little plan actually worked.
I ran to wake the boys. “Liam! Chris! Come look!”
They rushed to the window, and when they saw it, their faces lit up. “Mom, we can see the trees again!” Chris shouted. Liam hugged me tight. “You’re the best, Mom.”
Our beautiful view was back—and Jeffrey had learned his lesson.
Later that afternoon, I was in the front yard planting flowers when Jeffrey walked over. He looked embarrassed, hands shoved in his pockets.
“Catherine,” he began awkwardly, “I just wanted to apologize.”
“Oh?” I said, pretending to sound surprised.
He nodded. “I shouldn’t have put up that fence without your permission. It was wrong of me.”
“Yes, it was,” I said simply.
“I’ve learned my lesson,” he said, his voice sincere this time. “From now on, I’ll respect your property—and your rights as a neighbor.”
I smiled. “Apology accepted, Jeffrey. Let’s start over.”
He nodded. “I’d like that.”
As he walked back to his house, I felt proud. I’d stood up for myself and my boys, and I’d done it on my own terms.
That whole situation taught me something: sometimes life throws you into battles you never asked for. And when it does, you have to think outside the box to defend what’s yours.
I may not have chosen the most conventional route, but it worked. Jeffrey learned his lesson, my boys got their view back, and peace returned to our little corner of the world.
Do you think I did the right thing?