At 74 years old, I thought I’d seen it all, but nothing could have prepared me for the chaos that unfolded right in my backyard. I’m Margaret, and my home has been a haven of joy for two decades, where I’ve watched my children grow up and now enjoy the company of my seven grandchildren during summer visits and weekend barbecues. The pride of my property was a charming pond, lovingly dug by my late grandfather, which had become the heart of our family gatherings.
My grandkids adored that pond, perhaps more than they did me! Everything was blissful until Brian moved in next door five years ago. From the start, he had an issue with my pond.
“Margaret!” he’d shout over the fence. “Those frogs are keeping me awake at night! Can’t you do something about them?” … continue below
