FLASH MEMOIR BY: Alua Alchinbayeva
ARTIST STATEMENT: I wrote in ENG1101: English Composition I. We were asked to reflect on a meaningful moment that changed our perspective. While writing, I realized how much this experience continues to comfort me during difficult moments, even when others struggle to believe it. This allowed me to turn a deeply personal story about my parrot into something meaningful that I could finally share with others.
ABOUT THE IMAGE
"Pet In Touch" Ad, by Erika Maza
My Pet in Touch project was inspired by the loss of my dog, Lobo, to an undetected heart condition. This tragedy made me realize how easily traditional trackers ignore pets' internal health.
To solve the problem, I designed a clinical-grade smart collar system that gives pets a digital voice through AI-driven biometric profiles and real-time medical monitoring.
This COMD4830: Communication Design Senior Project challenged me to bridge the gap between everyday pet hardware and advanced veterinary care, integrating complex sensors into an ergonomic, safety-first design. My achievement is creating a system that erases the guilt of "missed chances," turning silent suffering into proactive, life-saving alerts for pet owners.
ABOUT THIS ESSAY
Introduction by Prof. Camille Goodison
Alua wrote this in response to a prompt on "a moment of realization or gratitude." I like that she chose to write about her pet parrot, Yorick. The bird's name alone made me smile, and then the twists and turns of his fate made for a genuinely heartwarming story.
Everybody has heard, “Whatever is yours will always come back to you.” I had never experienced it, and had only heard beautiful stories about it on the Internet. Because of that, it always seemed distant, and almost unrealistic.
One day, my perspective completely changed. I never could have imagined that such a small creature would be the reason behind it.
Getting a pet was not easy. My parents were quite strict about it. Since we lived in an apartment, they only allowed small pets, such as turtles and parrots.
It was an unbearably hot. My mom was already starting to regret her decision. The turtles were out of stock.
But there were small parrots, “budgies,” green, blue, yellow, all fluttering around restlessly in their cages.
My attention was drawn to one sitting quietly in the corner. He was white with a soft blue pattern, calm, and just two months old. That was the moment I chose him. I named him Yorick.
Then, a spring day changed everything.
My mom decided to clean the kitchen windows. She opened them wide, removing the protective screen. To keep Yorick safe, she closed the door. He was in my room, flying around as he usually did. My dad walked in to ask me something, accidentally leaving the door open behind him. A moment later, he went into the kitchen, opening that door as well.
It was already too late. Yorick flew out of my room, into the kitchen, and straight through the open window.
My mom leaned out from the fourth-floor window, shouting his name, but he was already too far away. My dad and I ran outside in different directions, calling for him, carrying food, hoping to find him.
I was crying as I ran, and suddenly it began to rain, which soon turned into snow.
After about an hour of searching, we lost hope and returned home.
That evening was one of the quietest and heaviest in our lives. The apartment felt empty. We were overwhelmed with guilt. We had failed to protect a little parrot who had never known the wild and was never meant to survive in it.
The next day, my mom went to work, still heartbroken, and shared with her colleagues the reason behind her sadness.
One of them suddenly asked, “What does your budgie look like?”
Surprised, my mom showed her a photo of Yorick. The woman paused. She said that her daughter had found a bird exactly like that the day before on her window.
My mom called me immediately, and my brother and I rushed to my mom’s colleague’s house.
The moment Yorick saw me, he began fluttering excitedly, as if he had been waiting for us. There was no doubt, it was him.
We later learned that the girl lived just one block away from us, and Yorick had landed on her window. Because she had a cat, she brought him to her mother, who happened to be my mom’s colleague.
For days, we could not make sense of it. It felt impossible and too precise to be a coincidence. Out of all the places he could have gone, he ended up exactly where he needed to be to find his way back to us.
Yorick passed away after five years with us. He was never just a pet, he was part of our family. A small life that carried something much bigger. He gave me more than memories. He gave me belief in miracles. No matter how far something goes or how lost it seems, if it is truly yours, it will always find its way back to you.
