My poor puppy got fixed on Monday. Despite the cone of shame he is wearing, he still managed to chew his stitches out. My husband had high hopes for the change in temperament that he hoped would accompany the loss of his gonads. I think he thought Murphy would come home, and be all calm and cuddly. No more running around, digging, eating shoes, and the like. No such luck love. He is our same energetic, dare I say, hyper, little guy. I am just praying that he heals up ok, and that he doesn't get an infection. He just won't leave his nether region alone.
This has been a crazy week. Well emotionally crazy anyway. It is surreal seeing a "For Sale" sign up in your yard, when that is the last thing you want. I know I am not the first person to experience the loss of a home. I also realise that my situation is not the same as those who are losing their homes due to foreclosure, I really feel for folks who have experienced that nightmare. Just the same, coming home yesterday to that sign in my yard sent me reeling. I believe I may have experienced a genuine panic attack. My husband helped me put everything back in perspective, but it is hard not to let myself get sad about it.
I keep reminding myself to chill. To let go, and let God do his job. To remember that He has a plan for us, and that His will will overcome any blocked doors in our path. If we are walking in His will, the right doors will open, and the wrong ones will slam shut. If I try to control this mess, I will surely screw it up, so this is one of those moments when I need to breath, relax, and not over think things. So that is what I'll be doing today. In between cleaning, playing with my little one, and all of my various chauffeur duties, I will be praying, breathing, and chilling out.
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