Julie’s Journal

She was much taller than IZoeAndRikkiForBlog expected. With the thinness of an athlete, a runner’s build. But she still had the freckles I remembered when I first started writing about her, and that same porcelain-doll skin. I also recognized that serious, almost introspective look that surfaced whenever she put her hands on the reddish-golden retriever named Rikki.

Zoe is the brave girl who inspired a law in Florida to allow therapy dogs to accompany children in the courtroom. As an eight-year-old, she clung to Rikki during a deposition that required her to answer embarrassing questions about one man’s body parts and hers. And it was Rikki that she ran to after being questioned by a judge and two attorneys in front of the man who committed the “Capital Sexual Battery” when she was still in preschool.

She no longer lives in Florida, but Zoe returns with her family about once a year and always asks to see Rikki. She makes sure to bring plenty of baby carrots, the dog’s preferred treat.

I had purposely avoided seeing Zoe for these visits until my book, Encounters with Rikki: From Hurricane Katrina Rescue to Exceptional Therapy Dog, was complete. I’ve been working on this story for almost five years and I knew she was growing up, but I needed Zoe to remain a little girl in my mind’s eye.

Writing about sex crimes against children is delicate work and I have tried my best to be sensitive to the family’s wishes. At various intersections, I asked Zoe’s mom about using identifying details, and every time I received the same answer: Yes, please tell our story. People need to know.

This past week, I was able to hear it direct from Zoe. She, along with her two younger brothers and their parents met Chuck Mitchell and his therapy dog Rikki at the Miccosukee Greenway. As the morning sun filtered through the trees, I stepped onto that hallowed ground of storyteller and thanked my main character for the privilege of exploring her world.

Zoe met my gaze only briefly, then dropped her head and responded thoughtfully, “Maybe I can make a difference for someone else.”


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