We were told to take the pressure bandage off our dog's leg after 5 days, so yesterday, I removed it. He'd been very good about not trying to chew his bandage, and I didn't anticipate problems. A short while later, I went out to get a haircut. I returned to find my husband in a state of distress - he'd arrived home moments before, to see the dog with an open wound on his leg - he'd chewed the stitches out. Back to the vet for staples to close it up again, another bandage, and this time, a cone on his neck, held on by bandage wrapped around and under his legs, belly, etc. The cone which is small enough to stay on his head, allows that long dachshund neck and nose to stick out, and the next size up slides right off his head. Hence the mummy bandages. We're still waiting for the lab results on the tumour.
Life in this marriage has been rough for me, lately. Years of choked down, swallowed anger coming to the surface and overflowing onto me. I'm trying to remain detached, attend meetings, talk to my Higher Power, and let it go. I have no control over how he chooses to behave, but I do have the power to set boundaries, and maintain them. Where that leads, only my HP knows. I've reached a place of acceptance - knowing that there's nothing I can say or do to change it; it's out of my hands. I'm not lonely, because I know my HP is always with me, and my program friends are just a phone call or email away. I know they care for me, and will treat me with the respect and loving kindness I'm not getting at home. I've got my little dogs to embrace and delight in, to bounce with joy when I arrive back home after a short time out, and to snuggle with on the couch - one hand holding a book, the other stroking a soft warm dog on my lap. For now, that's enough.