I sigh in frustration. At the same time, I'm ready to do anything to get him dressed.

So I head for the bedroom as I hear him follow me. Once inside, he goes into the dressing room adjoining the bathroom while I wait for him in front.

If he can't live without me for thirty meters and he always reacts violently every time I meet someone, recovering a semblance of freedom is utopian. I thought I'd wait until he got better, hoping that by then seeing him once a month would be enough ...