Pitya Ivyr
K-9 Unit Manager and Trainer ACME
The Move
July 2005
My father had passed not too long ago. My mother had never been the same. I guess that’s when I stepped up really. I may have been young, but I wanted to help my mother out as much as possible. About a year later… we decided to move from the only home I had ever known and go to America. Well to be exact it was California. I helped move everything from the house and even tried to make it where mom wasn’t as stressed about moving.
I hardly remember what happened when the phone call was received about dad being in a car crash…I was in the middle of a lesson at the time. MY mom came to pick me up and we went to the house. Okay… so it was a mansion. Both of my parents were working so hard to live well and take care of me. Well that’s a story for another time. Where was I? Oh right… heading home. Something was wrong and it was clear to me. Mom never was this quiet when picking me up from a lesson.
As soon as we entered the mansion and had our stuff taken up to our rooms, mom collapsed on the couch. She wasn’t doing so well. Everything had fallen apart after hearing the news. I guess moving is what she thought was best. Get away from all the memories. I mean… it makes sense in my opinion. In a way. So… I helped. Mom was a bit in a trance throughout those days of packing. She always had this… blank look on her face I swear. Anyways, I finished packing up the bathroom and my room and helped carry stuff to the van. I was only 6 yes…. But i would not let mom do all of it herself.
After everything was said and done we hopped on a plane and headed to America. I had never flown before… as you can imagine I was both scared and yet amazed too. Flying was incredible and I felt free. As we landed in CA I guess everything was a blur. New sights, new smells, everything caught my attention. My mother called my name multiple times (I wasn’t counting, but my guess was around a dozen or so just to get me to look at her) to get me to go ahead and get to the taxi.
As we pulled into the driveway, the house took my breath away. Tall gates with winding vines encircling them opened to let us through. Lush green grass encircled the gorgeous mansion that rose from the ground. Ivory colored walls rose form the earth, and granite stairs led the way to a pool and the double door entrance. Windows rose from ground up in overwhelming arches. Palm trees decorated the yard and the sparkling waters from the pool caught my eye. It was paradise.
I entered and almost immediately raced to find my room. Overlooking the forest background to right and my other window overlooked the coast, large cliffs dropping to meet the sandy floors and crystalline blue ocean waters sparkled. I loved it. The room had high arching ceiling, a balcony with potted marigolds, a walk in closet, a bathroom, and a queen bed. I loved the covers too. The room was painted turquoise with purple trim, photos of mountain landscapes and wild horses decorated the walls lightly. The bedspread was wild horses along a beach, and my pillowcases were ivory colored satin.
This was heaven to me. We had maids, servants, a cook, and my mom insisted on driving me and herself anywhere. I just enjoyed the landscape and how the home felt. I never had seen so much color and never seen so many different plants. There was a trail to the beach, and we had a stable too. Which was where I spent much of my time with Arab horses and other breeds as I helped train as I grew up. Those are more topics for another time.
I guess this was home. Something I was not used to. However, I could get used to it. I guess this was why many judged me by what i wore, how i lived when I personally disliked being judged by wealth. Wealth wasn’t everything to me. As I grew older, I realized not everything was about money… personality was a big part of what I found important to look for. When it was clear I was judged for being well-off, rich, ect. I stopped making friends and distanced myself. Thus, it equaled me being bullied and not really finding myself with anyone to help me with classwork. As such, this required me to throw myself headfirst into work, school work, and even just living. My mom couldn’t help often… she either worked or seemed distant to me.
I guess this was where my life truly started, and where my independence really took root. You learn something new every day.
July 2005
My father had passed not too long ago. My mother had never been the same. I guess that’s when I stepped up really. I may have been young, but I wanted to help my mother out as much as possible. About a year later… we decided to move from the only home I had ever known and go to America. Well to be exact it was California. I helped move everything from the house and even tried to make it where mom wasn’t as stressed about moving.
I hardly remember what happened when the phone call was received about dad being in a car crash…I was in the middle of a lesson at the time. MY mom came to pick me up and we went to the house. Okay… so it was a mansion. Both of my parents were working so hard to live well and take care of me. Well that’s a story for another time. Where was I? Oh right… heading home. Something was wrong and it was clear to me. Mom never was this quiet when picking me up from a lesson.
As soon as we entered the mansion and had our stuff taken up to our rooms, mom collapsed on the couch. She wasn’t doing so well. Everything had fallen apart after hearing the news. I guess moving is what she thought was best. Get away from all the memories. I mean… it makes sense in my opinion. In a way. So… I helped. Mom was a bit in a trance throughout those days of packing. She always had this… blank look on her face I swear. Anyways, I finished packing up the bathroom and my room and helped carry stuff to the van. I was only 6 yes…. But i would not let mom do all of it herself.
After everything was said and done we hopped on a plane and headed to America. I had never flown before… as you can imagine I was both scared and yet amazed too. Flying was incredible and I felt free. As we landed in CA I guess everything was a blur. New sights, new smells, everything caught my attention. My mother called my name multiple times (I wasn’t counting, but my guess was around a dozen or so just to get me to look at her) to get me to go ahead and get to the taxi.
As we pulled into the driveway, the house took my breath away. Tall gates with winding vines encircling them opened to let us through. Lush green grass encircled the gorgeous mansion that rose from the ground. Ivory colored walls rose form the earth, and granite stairs led the way to a pool and the double door entrance. Windows rose from ground up in overwhelming arches. Palm trees decorated the yard and the sparkling waters from the pool caught my eye. It was paradise.
I entered and almost immediately raced to find my room. Overlooking the forest background to right and my other window overlooked the coast, large cliffs dropping to meet the sandy floors and crystalline blue ocean waters sparkled. I loved it. The room had high arching ceiling, a balcony with potted marigolds, a walk in closet, a bathroom, and a queen bed. I loved the covers too. The room was painted turquoise with purple trim, photos of mountain landscapes and wild horses decorated the walls lightly. The bedspread was wild horses along a beach, and my pillowcases were ivory colored satin.
This was heaven to me. We had maids, servants, a cook, and my mom insisted on driving me and herself anywhere. I just enjoyed the landscape and how the home felt. I never had seen so much color and never seen so many different plants. There was a trail to the beach, and we had a stable too. Which was where I spent much of my time with Arab horses and other breeds as I helped train as I grew up. Those are more topics for another time.
I guess this was home. Something I was not used to. However, I could get used to it. I guess this was why many judged me by what i wore, how i lived when I personally disliked being judged by wealth. Wealth wasn’t everything to me. As I grew older, I realized not everything was about money… personality was a big part of what I found important to look for. When it was clear I was judged for being well-off, rich, ect. I stopped making friends and distanced myself. Thus, it equaled me being bullied and not really finding myself with anyone to help me with classwork. As such, this required me to throw myself headfirst into work, school work, and even just living. My mom couldn’t help often… she either worked or seemed distant to me.
I guess this was where my life truly started, and where my independence really took root. You learn something new every day.
