Miami Herald

Dog therapy helps kids deal with trauma of war in Ukraine

- BY E. EDUARDO CASTILLO

Bice is an American pit bull terrier with an important and sensitive job in Ukraine — comforting children traumatize­d by Russia’s invasion.

The playful 8-year-old gray dog arrived this week at a rehabilita­tion center on the outskirts of the Ukrainian capital, ready to start his duties.

As Bice waited in a hallfrom way, a dozen children were seated around a table listening to Oksana Sliepova, a psychologi­st.

“Who has a dog?” she asked and several hands raised at once while the space filled with shouts of “Me, me, me!”

One youngster said his dog was named Stitch; “Tank,” said another boy, adding that he has five but forgot some of their names. Everyone burst out laughing.

The seven girls and nine boys — ranging in age a 2-year-old boy to an 18-year-old young woman — look at first like schoolchil­dren enjoying class.

But they have particular stories: Some witnessed how Russian soldiers invaded their hometowns and beat their relatives. Some are the sons, daughters, brothers or sisters of soldiers who are on the front lines or were killed on them.

They come together at the Center for Social and Psychologi­cal Rehabilita­tion, a state-operated

community center where people can get help coping with traumatic experience­s after Russia’s invasion in February.

The therapists have used horses, but now they are adding support from another four-legged friend: Dogs.

Located in Boyarka, a suburb around 12 miles southwest of Kyiv, the center was establishe­d in 2000 as part of an effort to give psychologi­cal support to people affected, directly or indirectly, by the explosion at the nuclear plant in Chernobyl in 1986.

Now, it focuses on people affected by the war. These days, when some areas are without power after the Russian attacks on Ukrainian energy infrastruc­ture, the two-story building is one of the few places with light and heating. With the kids gathered, some wearing festive blue or red Christmas hats, Sliepova cagily asked if they wanted to meet someone. Yes, they did, came the response. The door opened. The faces of the children glowed. They smiled.

And in came Bice, the tail-wagging therapist.

Darina Kokozei, the pooch’s owner and handler, asked the children to come one by one, to ask him to do a trick or two. He sat. He stood up on his hind legs. He extended a paw, or rolled over. Then, a group hug — followed by a few tasty treats for him.

For more than 30 minutes, Bice let everybody touch him and hug him, without ever barking. It was as if nothing else mattered at that moment, as if there were nothing to worry about — like, say, a war ravaging their country.

This is the first time that Sliepova has worked with a dog as part of her therapies. But, she said, “I read a lot of literature that working with dogs, with four-legged rehabilita­tors, helps children reduce stress, increase stress resistance, and reduce anxiety.”

The kids did not seem stressed out, but of course the reality is still out there.

She observed how some children are scared of loud noises, such as when someone closes a window or when they hear a jet. Some drop to the floor or start asking whether there’s a bomb shelter nearby.

Among the children were a brother and sister from Kupyansk, a city in the eastern region of Kharkiv. They witnessed Russian soldiers storming into their home with machine guns, grabbing their grandfathe­r, putting a bag on his head and beating him, Sliepova said.

“Each child is psychologi­cally traumatize­d in

EACH CHILD IS PSYCHOLOGI­CALLY TRAUMATIZE­D IN DIFFERENT WAYS. Oksana Sliepova, a psychologi­st who is using dogs to help Ukrainian children deal with stress caused by the war

different ways,” she said.

The moms of some of the kids at the therapy session remained seated along one of the walls, watching and listening at a distance. When Bice came in, some took pictures of their children.

Lesya Kucherenko was here with her 9-year-old son, Maxim. She said she can’t stop thinking about the war and what could happen to her oldest son, a 19-year-old paratroope­r fighting in the town of Bakhmut in the the eastern Donetsk region — one of the most active fronts these days.

Maxim smiled as he played with Bice, but he often looked over at his mom.

Kucherenko said sometimes she breaks into tears when thinking about her soldier son. Right before this session, she got a call from him. He told her that he was fine, and by just rememberin­g that, she started crying. The next second, Maxim was there, asking why.

“You see? He’s comforting me — not me him,” she said.

As for the comforting canine, what’s the best message that Bice offers the kids?

Owner Kokozei needs to think for only a couple of seconds, and replies: “Freedom.”

“Freedom from problems, and happiness,” she adds.

 ?? VASILISA STEPANENKO AP ?? A boy poses with Bice in the Center for Social and Psychologi­cal Rehabilita­tion in Boyarka, Ukraine, on Wednesday.
VASILISA STEPANENKO AP A boy poses with Bice in the Center for Social and Psychologi­cal Rehabilita­tion in Boyarka, Ukraine, on Wednesday.

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