19/07/2025
MY NEIGHBOR BURIED MY POND WHILE I WAS AWAY 😡💧
Some people reveal who they truly are when you least expect it. For me, it happened when my neighbor filled in my cherished pond while I was out of town, not realizing the storm he was about to face. I may be a quiet older woman, but I had a plan that turned his world upside down.
At 74, I’ve seen my share of neighborhood drama, but nothing like what happened in my own backyard.
I’m Agnes, and I’ve lived in my cozy little home for twenty years. It’s where I raised my three kids and now enjoy weekends with my six grandkids. The highlight of our yard has always been the pond my great-grandpa built. It’s been the heart of our family for generations.
My grandkids love it—sometimes I think they like that pond more than my cookies! 🍪
Everything was peaceful until Derek moved in next door five years ago. From day one, he had a problem with my pond.
“Agnes,” he’d yell, “those frogs are driving me crazy at night!”
I’d just laugh and say, “They’re singing you to sleep, Derek. Free lullabies!”
He’d complain about bugs, too. I told him, “Maybe it’s that cluttered mess in your yard, not my clean pond.”
He’d stomp away, and I figured he’d get over it. I was wrong.
I went to visit my cousin for a few days, looking forward to laughter and card games. But when I came home, something felt off. The sparkle of water in the yard was gone. In its place? Dirt.
My heart sank.
Mrs. Carter from across the street rushed over. “Agnes, I tried to stop them! They said they were hired to fill the pond. I told them you weren’t home, but they had papers and everything!”
I stared at the muddy patch where my beloved pond used to be. I didn’t need to guess who was behind it.
“Derek,” I whispered, fists clenched.
“What will you do?” Mrs. Carter asked, worried.
I stood up straight. “Oh, he’s about to learn why you don’t mess with Agnes.”
I called my daughter Clara. She was furious. “We need to call the police!”
“Not yet,” I said. “We need proof.”
That’s when my granddaughter Sophie remembered something. “Grandma! The bird camera in the maple tree!”
We checked it. And there he was—Derek, clear as day, bossing a crew around, smirking like he got away with something.
“Oh, I’ve got you now,” I said with a grin.
Derek thought I’d just let it go. But he didn’t count on me calling the local environmental office.
“Hello,” I said sweetly. “I’d like to report the illegal destruction of a protected pond.”
They sounded confused at first. “Protected habitat, ma’am?”
“Yes,” I replied. “That pond was registered. It had rare fish. Someone filled it in while I was away.”
Turns out, the environment folks take that very seriously.
A few days later, they knocked on Derek’s door.
“Mr. Larson, you’re being fined for destroying a protected habitat. We have evidence.”
Derek looked stunned. “Fifty thousand dollars? Are you kidding? It was just a pond!”
“That ‘pond’ was registered and protected, sir.”
I watched from my porch, trying not to giggle. But I wasn’t done yet. Next, I called my grandson Lucas—a sharp lawyer in the city. Read more in Comment or Most relevant -> All comments 👇
