A Story of Courage from Cathy

Cathy brushed away insects as the May sun beat down on her. She felt hungry and afraid, with her dog, Maverick, by her side.

She had been on that park bench for two days, caught in a mental struggle over what to do: return or find a new path.

But the memories haunted her.

The isolation from loved ones.

The hospital room and the question of pressing charges.

All the violence. All the lack of respect.

No more. I’m starting right now.

As sweat dripped down her face and tears rolled from her eyes, she realized this was the freest she had felt in years.

She had left her abuser.

She had survived.

I walked out with just my purse and my dog, Cathy recalled. I had Maverick, and that was it.

For Cathy, Maverick was more than a pet; he was a hero and a must-have for any future home.

Maverick saved my life.

During the worst of the violence, as her partner was choking her, Maverick leaped up and bit his arm, allowing her to breathe again.

Maverick, a well-trained service dog for her panic attacks, had acted beyond his duties in ways Cathy couldn’t explain. Maverick went above and beyond for me.

I didn't know what to expect when coming to the shelter, but I knew it had to be better than where I was before.

The shelter that took me in became everything I needed.

Cathy and Maverick adjusted to their new environment with plenty of walks. He received dog food and was pampered with toys and treats from the local thrift store.

I absolutely loved it. It was everything I needed at that time, she said. I loved the routine, the safety, the staff.

Within a week, she met with a therapist and attended weekly group counseling.

After three months in the shelter, she managed to apply for housing assistance and move into the apartment she now shares with her beloved Maverick.

Her two main goals were accomplished: finding a safe place for both her and Maverick to relax and securing a suitable job.

She had triumphed.

The park bench now felt like a distant memory.

After leaving the park and spending a few nights in a hotel, Cathy realized it had been a year since she had taken a shower. She showered five times while staying there, resting and preparing for her next steps.

She received a bag of clothes, and for the first time in a year, she looked at herself in the mirror. The reflection was unrecognizable, a reaction to the trauma she continues to work through, reminding herself:

I am resilient.
I am worthy.
I am loved.
I am courageous.
I am hopeful.

The day arrived for a sheriff to drive her to the local shelter, and her stomach churned with anxiety.

She had wanted to leave before, but this time, it was sparked by a moment of intense disrespect. He had spat in her face.

I was just done, she recalled about her early days of strength. I’m getting in that sheriff’s car. And she did.

At first, hope seemed overwhelming because I felt so hopeless. I was in such despair that hopelessness felt like my new reality. But that began to shift as my confidence grew, as I participated, as I learned, and as I showed up for myself. Now, Maverick and I have a real chance at a wonderful life.

Cathy’s story of courage serves as a powerful reminder of the need for support.

Domestic abuse is a reality in our communities, and it takes collective effort to combat it.

We must not abandon our frightened, hurting neighbors.

Every aspect of Steps to Hope plays a crucial role in helping people leave abusive situations. From reaching out to the helpline, to finding rest at the shelter, to planning for safety, to securing housing, to therapy — we have a dedicated team of advocates and resources for the entire journey, not just the beginning.

Consider making a contribution today to ensure our clients experience a safe, peaceful, and rejuvenating holiday.

With gratitude,

Diane Nelson
Executive Director