Potential remedy to relieve PTSD? Puppy love

By Jamie Hall, Postmedia News April 26, 2012

Richard Yuill, with his dog Halo, was diagnosed with PTSD after serving in Bosnia in 2000.

EDMONTON — There are mornings when it’s only the persistent nudging of Halo’s cold, wet nose that convinces Richard Yuill to get out of bed.

The post-traumatic stress disorder with which he has struggled since his tour of duty in Bosnia sometimes comes with crushing depression that makes it difficult for him to face the day.

Seven-month-old black lab puppies care little about such things, though, especially when they have empty tummies and full bladders.

“He’s pretty hard to ignore,” smiles Yuill, gently stroking the puppy’s smooth forehead.

Halo — he’s named after a Canadian military operation in Haiti — is part of Bravo K9, a program of Hope Heels. The non-profit organization initially was established to help people with mental-health issues but has expanded to include current members of the Canadian Forces or veterans who have symptoms of operational stress injury or post-traumatic stress disorder, known as PTSD.

It’s a unique twist on animal-assisted therapy. Instead of being provided with a service dog that already has been trained, participants are given the job of doing it themselves, with help of a professional dog trainer and a registered psychologist. The goal is to teach people skills that help them work beyond the bounds of their disabilities, and in the process, contribute to their own healing.

For Yuill, it’s not just about getting out of bed in the morning — it’s being able to leave the house by himself and to do things that most people take for granted: grocery shopping, banking, dropping off the dry-cleaning.

A member of the Canadian military from 1990 to 2002, he was diagnosed with PTSD shortly after his release. In 2000, he was part of a peacekeeping unit given the task of “de-mining” the Bosnian countryside. Although the hostilities of the bloody civil war involving the Serbs, Croats and Muslims had ceased, the danger had not, and areas of the country were still littered with mines left from the conflict.

An ammunition technician, Yuill knew well the maiming — and killing — capabilities of such mines. During his five-month tour of duty, a young girl from a nearby town was killed after she stepped on one of the mines near their camp. Other things happened, too, some involving his own unit, that contributed to his PTSD and left him battling debilitating bouts of depression, anxiety and anger upon his return.

He experienced major trust issues. Being around large groups of people, even at family gatherings, triggered severe panic attacks. And, until recently, the idea of leaving the house without the company of the handful of people he does trust — his partner Terri-Lynn, her daughter, his sons — was nearly unthinkable.

“Anywhere there are lots of people — banks, grocery stores — I feel trapped, totally surrounded,” says Yuill. “I can barely resist the urge to run.”

Many veterans with PTSD suffer from agoraphobia and need a safe person to go out with, says Kristine Aanderson, the executive director of Hope Heels and a registered psychologist.

“We can train them to use their dog as that safe person, so that they always have a buddy with them,” she says. “Someone to ‘watch their back’ when they’re out and feel vulnerable.”

Today, Yuill and his faithful pooch venture out for leisurely strolls around the neighbourhood that get longer with each passing day. In time, he hopes to take Halo with him to run errands, a goal that seems more attainable than it did a few months ago.

When he came to live with Yuill, Halo was a 10-week-old puppy, with all the attendant demands and needs of a newborn. In canine years, he’s now a teenager. And while he occasionally exhibits the attitude that age suggests, his seal-brown eyes and unwavering loyalty have won his master’s heart and trust.

“We’ve developed a very tight bond,” says Yuill with a smile. “I mean, who can you trust more than an animal; dogs, especially. They don’t judge you, and the love they offer is unconditional.”

jhall@edmontonjournal.com