Here comes the bride, 150 pound dog, angry cat . . . .

Well faithful blog followers, (I don't think there actually are any of you) I'm back at it again.  Now that I'm getting settled into married life, there might be a chance that I can update this on a semi-regular basis.
The time since my last post has been crazy- engagement, wedding planning, the holidays, the wedding, and now adjusting to being Mrs. MHH and not just a Miss.  Actually, the first time someone at work referred to me as Senora, I nearly snapped back that I'm too young to be a Senora.... until I realized, "Oh yeah, married!" Yeeks, I'm a senora, a madam (not like a brothel madam).

Mr & Mrs MHH!

Seriously though, married life has been really great-- I'll be honest and say that it definitely is more challenging to live with another person.  More dishes, more laundry, definitely more cooking, sharing televisons (more sports), couch space, closet space, listening to their loud breathing at 3am while they sleep soundly and you lay awake-- unable to turn on a light and read your insomnia away because you fear waking them up, waking up at 5am when the other person gets up to go to work early and turns on lights . . . .
LUCKILY, I'm married to a fabulous guy who puts up with my shopping, my cat, my need for my own bathroom, my shoe collection, my purse collection, my overall inability to be tidy, my total takeover of the DVR queue, AND I have been given an ENTIRE guestroom to serve as my closet space.  ALSO-- he often does the dishes and makes me smile absolutely every day.
Last week, to make life going into our 3rd month of marraige more interesting--- we bought a dog.  For those of you who know me, I'm assuming that you would peg me as one of those girls who wears four inch heels with a matching handbag and also carries a matching dog carrier for my rat-sized yapper.  WELL, you would be WRONG (not about the heels and handbag, but the yapper).  Rather than getting a purse puppy, Mr. MHH and I decided to be absolutely insane and buy a dog who is going to weigh in at one and a half times my weight when she's full grown.  She's a Newfoundland, and she's the most precious thing I've ever seen . . . . that weighs 50lbs at 10 weeks old.  We named her Dally, and that's exactly what she does.  The only thing the dog is capable of doing quickly is eating, and that's only on occasion.

Dahlia (Dally) doing what she does best, sitting.

As excited as Mr. MHH and I are, I believe the one in our household who is most excited about our new addition is Munchkin, the cat.  Munchkin doesn't have much experience with dogs, and the experience she does have is mostly unpleasant interactions with large, barking, jumping, spastic labradors.

Tucker and Sophie, the only time they were ever sitting still.

 Needless to say, Munchkin is not a fan of these 70 pound monsters-- so the 150 pound one we just brought into the family is not high on the cat's list of "favorite things."  She's pretty used to having her run of the house, getting attention when and only when she wants it, belly rubs, endless access to the backyard-- this cat has been calling the shots for almost 3 years.  So, Thursday night when Mr. MHH and I brought miss Dally home, Munchkin was pissed... to put it mildly.  At 3am when Mr. MHH took Dally out in the yard to "wash her hands," Munchkin (who has never ever left the yard even when she has been outside for 5 hours at a time) decided it was time to move out.  By the time Mr. MHH realized she wasn't in the yard, she was walking down the sidewalk and turned around to look at him as if to say, "Peace out, jerk!"  Poor kitty was ready to hit the road.
We're actually quite lucky that the world's laziest puppy either has absolutely no interest in cats, hasn't realized that there is another animal in the house, or is too busy laying around to get up long enough to bother Munchkin.  now the worry is that Munchkin is plotting against the dog.  I definitely saw the cat sitting  on the windowsill above where Dally was sleeping for 30 minutes last night, just watching and probably waiting for her perfect chance to attack.

Munchkin, attacking the sofa.

Hopefully they start getting along... not too well though as the risk of an amimal mutiny is something I'm not prepared for