Rescued by My Dogs

I was raped one day while out power walking. Recovery seemed impossible until I adopted two pups.

BY GENEVIEVE M. KUEPFER
I started my usual four-mile power walk in Rose Canyon city park in La Jolla, Calif., about noon on January 2, 1995. I was serving with the U.S. Navy and preparing for a physical readiness test. I'd walked this beautiful trail often and as usual, I stopped after two miles to meditate. I sat on a little grassy mound beside the trail and turned my face toward the sun.

Suddenly a man in black hurled himself at me. I screamed and tried to get up, but he caught me and beat me unconscious. Then he dragged me away from the main path to a secluded area filled with brush and raped me. A couple higher up on the trail had heard my screams and, looking down, saw what was happening. They started toward us, and when my attacker became aware of them, he fled. The couple rushed to my side, called the police, and brought me to a hospital.

The Nightmares Began

For several weeks after the attack, I felt as if I were going through the motions of life but not really part of it. I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and major depression. I had recurring nightmares and difficulty concentrating. My assailant, who turned out to be a serial rapist, was caught the month after my attack and sentenced to 110 years, but the thought of returning to my regular walking routine filled me with anxiety. The few times I tried, I found myself looking over my shoulder every few minutes to see if someone was following me.

I decided to leave the Navy. It was a difficult decision because I'd been a sailor for 13 years, but I felt that to recover from the PTSD I would need to build a new life. I started a master's degree program in rehabilitation counseling at San Diego State University and took a part-time job as a career counselor. I immersed myself in classes, work, and studying, but no matter how busy I was, I felt depressed and anxious. Every day after class and work, I went home and immediately went to bed.

I was frustrated with my progress, but my therapist, Dr. Mark Haffey Jr., assured me that my feelings were normal. He explained that even my tendency to hold on to anger and resentment was an after-effect of the rape. He promised that eventually I would learn to live a new life, but he cautioned me that this would not happen overnight.

I Found Hope in Two Friends

I was lonely for companionship and afraid of people, which is probably why I began to dream of getting a dog. I imagined going for long walks with an intelligent, independent dog, one that was strong enough to protect me. One morning during my spring break, almost two years after the attack, I turned to the classifieds in my local paper and my eyes fell immediately on the ad for Misha: "Beautiful Siberian husky pup, blue eyes, must see." I drove to the owner's house that day, and it was love at first sight. Soon after that I adopted another pup and named him Mojo-Man.

Being their sole caretaker made me feel needed, not helpless. That summer I lost my desire to spend my free time sleeping. As I disciplined my dogs, I began to re-develop the patience and tolerance I'd lost after the assault. My major depression turned into a low-grade depression, and my therapist reduced my medication.

One day I saw an article about a young woman who'd been raped and was using a psychiatric service dog that had been specially trained to help her cope with PTSD. When I read that her dog was licensed so that she could take it anywhere, I decided to give Misha and Mojo the same training. I first found out what behaviors were required by federal and state licensing boards. Then, with the help of books and the training staff from service-dog schools, I taught my dogs basic obedience and how to function in a number of environments. For instance, they learned to ignore distractions and not to sniff at products in store aisles, and to form a protective wall around me if they sense that I'm in danger. After they were licensed, I could take them anywhere, even to work and the mall.

I Found Serenity

In 1998, I finished my master's degree and moved to Denver. I felt peaceful and happy, and I realized that I was socializing again. The dogs' good looks - Misha is a beautiful silver, black, and white husky with blue eyes and Mojo is predominantly black and white with one blue eye and one brown eye - naturally attract people wherever we go. At first it felt awkward to talk to strangers, but as time passed, I felt more comfortable. In fact, walking the dogs has had such a calming effect on me that now I don't need any medication at all.

Because I know that they'll protect me, I no longer look anxiously around to see if I'm being followed. They also guard me from depression. I especially like watching them wrestle like wolves when we go to the park. As they tumble and roll together, they keep bumping into me. The gentle bumping delights me, because I know it's their way of reminding me that I'm the leader of our little pack. Even if I've had an upsetting day, I head home from these evening outings in high spirits. I could never imagine a life without my dogs.

Genevieve Kuepfer is a Ph.D. student in the human services rehabilitation program at the University of Northern Colorado.

Article reprinted from July 2002 issue of "Natural Health" magazine