In early 2020, Wynde Dyer walked into the house that would transform her life. The Central California ranch sat on a cul-de-sac of gated homes and glittering aquamarine pools. It boasted private tennis and beach volleyball courts, a horse run, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a manicured lawn. The immaculate exterior masked what lay inside.
The owners of the house, wealthy pistachio farmers, had a hoarding problem. For decades, they’d accumulated mountains of items. Then they vacated, leaving it virtually untouched for six years. Dyer had accepted a job as their personal organizer. When she arrived, she faced rat droppings, moldy carpets, a garage full of agricultural chemicals and animal-care products, decades-old toiletries and makeup, endless boxes of scented candles, rotting wood and cardboard — and an unidentifiable animal carcass.
Dyer was good at her job, though. Thirty-nine years old at the time, she’d been organizing homes for years and was planning ...
