In White Marsh, a family installs an unsightly shed in the front yard, angering everyone else on the block.
Rowhouse neighbors in Tuscany-Canterbury fight in court over the right to build a deck.
In an expensive subdivision in Columbia, a resident who's never heard of a "pooper scooper" infuriates his next-door neighbor, who doesn't appreciate the smell when he mows his lawn.
And a Riderwood man who parks decrepit cars in his front yard as well as an Owings Mills doctor who examines patients at a home office in violation of zoning laws create an uproar on their blocks.
A survey of homeowners around Baltimore -- as well as lawyers, zoning officials, real estate agents, police departments and neighborhood groups -- found neighborhood feuds almost universal. Complaints range from spite fences that block views to dangerous trees to loud stereos to yards that look like garbage dumps. Nearly everyone who was contacted either had a disagreement with a neighbor or knew someone who did; few wanted to speak on the record.
"I didn't know this country was so full of neighbor problems," says Cora Jordan, the author of "Neighbor Law," a self-help guide to resolving disputes. The author, who surveyed neighbors across the United States, says such battles are common.
"It's inherently about your own space, whether it's a tiny apartment or a big house," she says. "When someone infringes on that space, it's intrinsic to defend your boundaries against any invasion."
The real problem, says Margie Bryce, director of the Anne Arundel Conflict Resolution Center, is respect.
"Many people's problems have to do with relationships," she says. "It's not just the tree on the border line, it's the respect they didn't get. Most don't care as much about the tree as they do about respect."
As eager as Baltimoreans were to complain about their neighbors, few would talk openly. It seems everyone's afraid of retaliation. Even the handful who weren't reluctant to give their names were nervous about revealing that of the neighbor.
Dave McGuire says he can't remember his next-door neighbor's name, but he can recall his barking dog.
The early-rising neighbor's penchant for putting the dog out on his leash before daybreak -- and the barking that followed -- drove the McGuire household crazy. Mr. McGuire, who lives in Arbutus, put up with it for "four or five years," he says, before leaving a note on the man's car window in November.
"I just figured, I can't put up with the aggravation," he says. "There was a lot of animosity in my house. We were thinking about taping the dog barking and putting it on the stereo, really loudly, and giving it back to him. These are the kinds of things that go through your mind."
Mr. McGuire's note, which gently reminded his neighbor that 5:30 a.m. was a little too early to put out the dog, seems to have worked, at least so far.
It wasn't as easy for Dan Driscoll, of Columbia, who only wished that his problem had been so simple.
Instead, Mr. Driscoll battled with his next-door neighbor, whose name he declines to mention, over a cat he says terrorized his family.
The mature stray, which his neighbor had recently adopted, was used to living in the wild. It didn't like to have to share outdoor territory with the Driscolls' more domesticated cat. Battles ensued. Mr. Driscoll and his neighbor would find themselves crawling under cars late at night trying to break up the fights. Expensive vet bills followed.
Like mature neighbors, they recognized a problem and devised a solution. Each posted a flag in the living room window that would indicate which cat was outside when.
' Didn't . . . say "I'm sorry" '
But on a balmy evening last summer, even a flag system wasn't enough. Desperate for a fight, the neighbor's stray wandered over to the Driscolls' yard, where he launched himself against their screen door. He knocked it down, barged inside and chased their pet around the house -- scattering humans in all directions, according to Mr. Driscoll.
"Our neighbor didn't even say 'I'm sorry,' " Mr. Driscoll says, getting to the heart of the offense. "Obviously, we understand he couldn't control the cat, but the issue is responsible pet ownership."
The neighbor finally gave the cat away, but it may have been too late to prevent a permanent impasse in neighbor relationships -- even though Mr. Driscoll says he has recovered. "My wife still won't talk to him," he says.
A little curiosity recently got Elmer Treptow, a 40-year resident of Bauernwood Avenue in Parkville, into a lot of trouble.
Mr. Treptow, a retired contractor, enjoys his self-assigned role as neighborhood construction supervisor and keeps tabs on people's home renovation projects. He often visits the residential job sites.
"I just want to see what's going on," he says. "I can be helpful when it comes to construction work because that was my life. I can't see how that would be objectionable."
But anyone driving by the home of Mr. Treptow's cater-corner neighbor recently might have gotten a different impression. A bold, hand-lettered sign saying, "stick your nose in your own business, Elmer," was a final act of desperation for Diane Rapiey.
"He's been sticking his nose in our business for years," she says, still fuming. Seems Mr. Treptow, on one of his missions, checked out a minor renovation project on the Rapieys' back porch. Concerned about accident liability -- and, she admits, a bit annoyed by his nosiness -- Mrs. Rapiey asked her neighbor to leave.
"I found myself raising my voice," she says, "and he threatened to call the inspector and have my permits checked."
Furious and insulted, Mr. Treptow did call Baltimore's inspection department.
An inspector eventually visited the property and determined that the contractor needed a $30 permit. He advised the contractor to finish out the workday and worry about the permit later.
But after further pressure from Mr. Treptow, the inspector shut down the construction site altogether.
7+ Now it was Mrs. Rapiey who was furious.
'Fed up'
"I couldn't think of any way to get back at him," she says, admitting that after 11 years in the neighborhood she had withstood as much of Mr. Treptow's curiosity as she could handle. "The only way was to make a statement to the neighbors that I am fed up with him sticking his nose in my business."
Mr. Treptow says he got the message, though he still doesn't understand what all the fuss was about.
The Gangis' well-kept Cape Cod-style house on busy Sparrows Point Road in Edgemere is next to a day care center and across the street from a 7-Eleven. The house borders a rutted, partially paved roadway that is used by the Gangis and their neighbors to get to their parking areas.
What was a minor inconvenience -- a few replaced mufflers -- flared into an outright feud last summer when a neighbor, whom Christine Gangi declines to name for fear of further property damage, was mowing the lawn on her side of the common road. Unfortunately, some gravel got caught and the powerful riding mower flung it 40 feet into the side of the Gangis' house.
The gravel hit the house so hard that it put holes in the aluminum siding, Mrs. Gangi says.
She raced outside to confront her neighbor. The conversation, she says, did not go well. She was angry about the damage. The neighbor, she says, was rude and offensive. The damage cost the Gangis' insurance company $5,600.