It all started with an older story, then a few newer ones. Several stories piled up until the cup finally overflowed.
Story 1
I don't remember exactly which year this happened, but here's how it went: there was a stretch of a few rainy days, in the middle of summer. On my street, when it rains hard for long enough, the street practically turns into a river - you could almost row a boat down it.
On a normal rainy day, puddles form, and one always forms right in front of my neighbor's house. An even bigger one forms in front of mine - but this story is about the neighbors, not about me.
One day I came home, and to avoid driving against traffic (since I have to park in front of my house anyway), I drove slowly along the sidewalk, straight through that small puddle. A small puddle, but one that splashed the neighbor's house fairly hard whenever cars drove through it.
The neighbor was standing at his gate when I drove through the puddle, but I didn't splash him or his house, because I drove very slowly to avoid that. I stopped the car, and before I'd even fully gotten out, he started in on me - why was I driving through the puddle, I was splashing his house, his whole house was soaked, and so on.
Of course I got angry and started shouting back, asking him why he was picking on me, that I hadn't splashed his house, and that I'd driven through slowly. The story ended there - I didn't stick around to talk, I just went inside.
Story 2
Two years ago, or maybe last year, again in summer (since it always happens in summer), there was a stretch of two weeks or more with temperatures of 35-38 degrees Celsius. During the day I kept the windows and doors shut so the heat wouldn't get in, and closed the curtains and blinds so the house wouldn't heat up too much.
In the evening I'd open everything up to cool the house down, but during that period I couldn't open anything for two or three hours, because there was smoke every evening. I don't know who was burning what, since I never saw anyone, but the smoke was quite strong.
I thought I was going to lose my mind, that's how much it got to me. On top of that, some days also brought the smell of chickens and rabbits from the neighbors.
Story 3
Last year I bought a garden gazebo and set it up on my terrace, not in the yard. Even though I live in a house, I'm on the upper floor and have a fairly large terrace, so I put the gazebo there. I know that's not really how it's done, but that's what I did, just to get a bit of shade during the day.
Whenever it was windy or a storm was coming, I'd tie the gazebo down and weight its legs so it wouldn't blow away or get damaged. Unfortunately, one afternoon I forgot and left the house. Only my parents were home, but they were downstairs, on the ground floor, where they live.
In the evening, once it was already dark outside, my mother called to tell me to come home, because the gazebo had ended up almost entirely in the neighbors' yard. While I was gone, a strong wind had picked it up; in the backyard there's a large cherry tree, almost as tall as the house. The gazebo flew into the tree and from there into the neighbor's yard - the same neighbor from the puddle story and the rabbit-smell story.
I rushed home. In the yard were my father, that neighbor, and another neighbor from across the street, all trying to bring the gazebo back over. So far so good - I quickly assessed the situation and, at first, wanted to just tie the gazebo down and bring it back the next day. The neighbor insisted it had to be moved right then, since he didn't want it sitting there, right over the rabbit hutch.
At one point, the neighbor grabbed a pipe and tried to push the gazebo (I don't know where to), but instead tore its fabric cover. When I saw what he'd done, I got furious, started shouting, and pulled the gazebo back into our yard - but by then it was completely wrecked. The cover was torn beyond repair (it wasn't in great shape anyway), and the frame's supports and other metal parts were bent.
Story 4
At some point over the years - I don't remember exactly when it started - the smell story began. First it was the smell of chickens, from a neighbor who lives two houses down from me. He never asked me whether the smell bothered me, and I don't know if he asked anyone else either. It's true the smell is there every evening, but some days it's much stronger.
Later, the neighbor right next to me started keeping rabbits too. An equally unpleasant smell, and much closer this time.
In the End
I had no issue with the neighbors, if it hadn't been for the puddle story, the gazebo story, and the smoke story. All of it piled up, and I couldn't take the bad smells anymore, or the fact that I couldn't air out my house. That's how I ended up reporting my neighbors to the Local Police.
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