Living peacefully on Maple Street, I’d built a backyard fence after a handshake deal with my old neighbors, Jim and Susan. I paid for it all, and they were happy. But when they moved, my new neighbor Kayla a flashy realtor from the city wasn’t so easygoing.

Six months in, she showed up with a survey and demanded I move my fence nine inches off her property or pay her. Despite explaining my deal with Jim and Susan, she threatened court. To avoid drama, I tore the fence down.

A week later, Kayla was at my door in tears. Her German Shepherd, Duke, had destroyed her house without the fence. She begged me to rebuild it even offered money. I refused. Soon, her flimsy bamboo replacement failed, Duke wreaked havoc at her garage sale, and her purse was stolen in the chaos.

Desperate, she kept begging, but I stood firm. Eventually, I sold my house and moved somewhere peaceful, taking the old panels with me. Kayla was left struggling with the mess she created. In the end, karma did its work and I got a new start.