The couple’s guide to abusing a puppy

No, not like that.

Over the past few weeks though, Eoin and I have been using Milo to give each other the occasional dig. He has become a little weapon that we share. It’s wrong and it’s really passive-aggressive but (and I shouldn’t be admitting this publically) it’s also very satisfying. Just don’t tell PETA because it’s probably a canine rights violation or something in this country.

Let me explain. Milo, for example, is not allowed to wander into the bathroom or the bedroom unattended because he will inevitably A) jump into the bath and go nuts or B) chew something belonging to me, usually a bra.

But obviously, accidents happen, and Eoin will usually leave the doors open at least once a day. I’ll more than likely find Milo eating my smalls, in which case I’ll drag him into the living room and go, in a very loud Mammyish voice, “Milo, what do you MEAN Eoin left the door open so you could ruin another bra? You’re RIGHT, he is a thicko.” Milo will stare back at me blankly and Eoin will pretend not to be listening, but my job will be done. And lest you feel sorry for him, know that Eoin does it too.

Seriously, if you have a puppy, or even a small child, give it a go. They need to earn their keep.

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Back to the future

The following is an actual conversation that took place between two actual people. Names have not been changed.

Eoin: “Do you know what we’re missing?”

Me (bored): “What?”

Eoin: “A local drug store”

Me (annoyed): “What are you on about? There’s a CVS two seconds from our apartment”

Eoin: “I know that, I’m talking about a place where locals go to get a malt and hang out”

Me (suicidal): “You’re thinking of the 1950s, Eoin”

Eoin: “Oh”

And so it starts…

First, a little background info. I’m Sarah, I live in Dublin with my boyfriend Eoin and I work on a magazine. About six weeks ago Eoin, who is an engineer at The Massive Multinational Company That Cannot Be Named, which produces something nerdy to do with computers, was offered a two and a half year assignment in America. We talked about it (a lot) and decided it was an amazing opportunity, one that he couldn’t turn down, and that I would go with him. To be honest, I did most of the talking. Like, who wouldn’t want to live stateside for a couple of years? The price of magazine subscriptions over there is enough to make me sprint to the airport.

The Massive Multinational Company That Cannot Be Named is a sound company and once we could prove that Eoin and I been living together for over a year, I was officially classed as his significant other  in their (probably bespectacled) eyes. As a SO, The Massive Multinational Company That Cannot Be Named will ship me off to America with him and organise a visa allowing me to stay there for the duration of his assignment. Like I said, sound.

The only problem is the visa (it’s called B1 or B2 or something) won’t allow me to work in the States; I’ll technically be a tourist, or a kept woman, as I like to put it. That’s the scary part. While this move is great for Eoin’s career, it means me giving up my job. A year ago I wouldn’t have dreamt of it but lately, well, it’s lost its lustre a bit and I’d been thinking of making a move for the past six months. So when you look at it, this America opportunity couldn’t have come at a better time.

Obviously we have loads to do (starting with this week’s job, some paperwork) as the preliminary start date for the assignment is the beginning of October. That’s only about 12 weeks away. Oh look, I’ve just pissed my pants out of sheer terror.