You live a quiet, respectful life, a homeowner who tends to your yard and exchanges pleasantries with neighbors. You are a responsible dog owner, your pit bull is gentle, and you’ve gone to great lengths to ensure he is a good community member. A few years after you move in, for the sake of neighborly peace and to appease a new “neighborhood watch” program, you even agree to rehome your canine companion. It’s a difficult choice but you make for the greater good.
The neighborhood is largely filled with kind people, but there is one neighbor who stands out. His house is the biggest, and he too owns a pit bull, but his is less predictable, a low-key menace. The community is too intimidated to confront him, so his dog stays.
In 2014, this neighbor crosses a line. He tears down your shared fence and rebuilds it, brazenly moving the property line into your yard. You and the other neighbors are concerned, but ultimately, nothing is done, and a quiet, simmering resentment begins to grow. You keep a vigilant eye on him, a high-alert state that becomes your new normal.
Then, in 2022, he strikes again. He decides to build a pool and, without a word, knocks down the fence and sends in contractors. The only way his pool will fit is if he takes a large portion of your yard. This time, you refuse to back down. You rally your community, and the head of the neighborhood watch—the other pit bull owner—becomes your staunchest ally, standing with you to keep the contractors out.
The struggle is relentless, a draining fight that goes on for years. But in 2025, something changes. The head of the neighborhood watch, your once staunch ally, goes through a bitter divorce that shatters his moral compass. He grows impatient with the conflict and, over beers with the bully, makes a cold deal: the bully can build his pool in your yard, but the aggression must stop there. The next day, your former ally stands idly by, his own pit bull at his side, as the contractors are let in to take your land.
Fair?


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