I’m Margaret, 74, and I’ve lived in my cozy home for over 20 years. The centerpiece of my yard was a pond my grandfather dug—a family treasure where my grandkids learned to swim and countless memories were made.Then came Brian, my entitled neighbor. From the day he moved in, he complained about the frogs, mosquitoes, and anything else he could blame on my pond. I always laughed it off
—until the day I came home from visiting my sister and found the pond gone. Filled with dirt. Just… gone.Sweet Mrs. Johnson next door said a crew came while I was away. They had paperwork and claimed it was authorized. I knew exactly who was behind it: Brian.Luckily, my grandkids had set up a bird camera in the tree. And guess who we saw on camera, bossing the workers around?
