My neighbors kept throwing their dogs’ poop in our garden, and my revenge on them was tough. Usually, I’m a laid-back person who likes to keep the peace, but this situation pushed me to take action.
Let me introduce myself—I’m Mandy. I don’t usually hold grudges and believe in “live and let live.” I live in a quiet, friendly suburban neighborhood where everyone knows each other, and it’s safe enough to leave your doors unlocked. It’s the perfect place to raise my two kids. We even have a lovely garden with a white picket fence in front of our house. But even in a place that seems perfect, problems can arise.
About a year ago, John and Sarah Thompson moved in next door. At first, they seemed nice. They had two big dogs, Max and Daisy, and were in their early 40s without kids. We got along well—I even gave them some homemade chocolate chip cookies as a welcome gift, and we occasionally borrowed things like sugar from each other. It was just the usual neighborly stuff.
But after a few months, things started to go downhill. Their dogs became a real problem for me. I love animals, but these dogs had a habit that really annoyed me. They would do their business right on the edge of their yard, but that wasn’t the worst part. The Thompsons had a little trick—they would collect the dog poop and, when they thought no one was watching, toss it over the fence into my garden. At first, it happened occasionally, but soon I was finding dog poop in my flower beds almost every day. I tried to be patient with them at first.
Who would intentionally throw dog poop over a fence? I figured it must have been an accident. I decided to address it directly, hoping a friendly conversation would clear things up. One day, while John and I were both outside in our yards, I casually brought it up, trying to keep it light: “Hey, John. I’ve noticed some dog poop in my garden lately. I think it might be from Max or Daisy. Could you keep an eye on them when they’re outside?”
John turned to me with a tight-lipped smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Well, it’s definitely not them,” he said, with a slight smirk that almost seemed mocking. “Maybe it’s your kids.”
I was taken aback. My kids? Really? I wanted to argue, but I could tell John wasn’t being sincere. I decided to let it go for the moment because I didn’t want to start a fight with my neighbor. But I knew I couldn’t just ignore this. If I didn’t do something, they wouldn’t stop, and talking to them hadn’t worked. It was time for a different approach—something a bit more creative. As I thought about it, a plan began to form, and the more I considered it, the more satisfyingly petty it seemed.
I was determined to give them a taste of their own medicine if they kept throwing their dogs’ poop into my yard. I should mention that I’m pretty good at baking, and my chocolate chip cookies are well-known around here. So, I came up with a simple plan: I’d make some cookies, but with a little twist.
The next day, I gathered my ingredients: chocolate chips, flour, sugar, and something extra. Though I’m not proud of what I did next, sometimes tough situations call for desperate measures. I went outside, picked up some of the dog poop from my garden, sealed it in a bag, and put on some gloves. Now, before you jump to conclusions, I wasn’t actually going to bake with real dog poop. I just needed something that would send a clear message. So, I went to the pet store and bought the smelliest dog treats I could find. These little brown nuggets looked like chocolate chips but smelled awful—just what I needed. I mixed them with real chocolate chips and made a fresh batch of cookies.
As the cookies baked, the smell in my kitchen was a strange and unsettling mix of dog treats and chocolate. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was exactly what I was going for. Even though the process made me feel sick, I pushed through because I knew the Thompsons were about to get a taste of their own medicine. Once the cookies cooled, I carefully placed them in a pretty, shiny tin.
As a final touch, I wrote a note in my best handwriting: “To the best neighbors, enjoy these fresh-baked cookies! – The Wilsons.” I chuckled to myself, imagining their reaction, but my plan wasn’t complete yet. Timing was everything. The next day, I waited patiently until Mrs. Thompson left, probably for one of her usual errands. Once it was safe, I quickly snuck over, placed the cookie tin on their porch, and hurried back to my house to watch from the window.
It didn’t take long for chaos to unfold. That evening, while I was in my garden, I heard loud barking from the Thompson house, breaking the usual calm of the neighborhood. Over the noise, I could clearly hear Mr. Thompson shouting, “What the hell is wrong with these cookies?!”
I couldn’t help but smile. This had gone even better than I expected. I knew they’d realize something was off, but I hadn’t anticipated how quickly it would happen. Later that evening, while watering my flowers, I overheard the Thompsons arguing in their backyard. Even though they were trying to keep their voices down, I could hear them through the fence.
Mrs. Thompson, clearly upset, said, “Those Wilsons gave us some kind of sick prank cookies!” Mr. Thompson, sounding guilty and frustrated, replied, “They must’ve figured out about the poop. What are we going to do?” Mrs. Thompson quickly responded, “Just keep quiet. We don’t want the whole neighborhood knowing we’ve been throwing dog crap over the fence.”
I almost dropped my watering can. That was the confirmation I had been waiting for—they knew they were guilty, and now they knew I was aware of it too.
The best part, though, was that something amazing happened a few days later—I stopped finding dog poop in my yard. It was like magic. I was thrilled that my little act of revenge had worked. But the story didn’t end there. A few weeks later, the Thompsons came to our neighborhood BBQ. They seemed quiet and avoided making eye contact with me. But I wasn’t going to let them off the hook that easily.
“Hi, John! Hi, Sarah!” I called out cheerfully, holding a tray of fresh cookies. “I brought extra cookies for the party. Would you like to try one?” Their faces turned pale when they saw the cookies. They mumbled something about being full and quickly made an excuse to leave, almost running away. As they hurried off, I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. The other neighbors, unaware of the inside joke between the Thompsons and me, happily ate the cookies.
As the evening went on, I overheard some of the neighbors talking about the Thompsons.
“Have you noticed how quiet their dogs have been lately?” one neighbor asked.
“Yeah, and their yard’s been spotless,” another replied.
It seemed that my small, creative act of revenge not only solved my problem but also changed the Thompsons’ behavior. Thanks to a bit of boldness and creativity, they had now become the perfect neighbors.