More photos of my babies

I am still loving my new camera, so that means you get to see more pictures of my pets. 

Here's Jasper, the eldest of our babies.

A very pregnant - and feral - cat wandered onto the outdoor weather set of the t.v. station where Ryan and I worked together back in 2002. She had kittens and we took one of the boys home. It turned out a few months later that Jasper was actually a girl.

Despite her feral roots (of which Ryan likes to remind her), she's an elegant cat. She's very thin, nearly underweight. She's also the alpha animal of our house, so her size is not due to her inability to get to the food dish. She could have as much as she wants because she is in charge.

Despite our constant love and affection, she is ornary, to say the least, and cries ALL...THE...TIME. As we like to tell her, we know she has it bad. Really bad. We are mean, horrible parents who don't even let her go outside, except for a stretch of several months where we used to live (until she got lost and almost didn't make it back in time to join us on our move down south). 

She lives each day longing to be an outdoors cat, but, believe it or not, she even cries when we let her out - supervised, of course - so we're not quite sure what she's trying to tell us, other than that she likes to complain. You'd think that perhaps something is wrong with her, but she's fine. She is just a cry baby. 

The other day when we heard her muffled cry, I frantically checked all the closets, where she's been known to fall asleep and then get trapped inside. She was no where to be found, and then it hit me - she was outside. She must have escaped when we were going in or out (it is a constant battle; we never open the door very wide because she WILL outsmart you) and when she realized we weren't right behind her to yell her name and chase her all over the yard, she came crying at the door. It was also raining, but she would have come home anyways because she loves us.

She's also super smart and I even taught her sign language. She waves her hand when she wants some of my food. And she is very picky - she only does this once in a great while. That's how I know when she really wants something I have. She loves rotisserie chicken.

Then there's Sophie...

But you know all about her. When we picked her up, the breeder told us she'd never be a show dog because of her pink nose. And her lazy eye. Oh, darn. We had big plans.

Don't you just love that face?

This isn't one of our pets, but it's on my mind right now...

Low-fat, low G.I. cheesecake bars I made last night, and it tastes even better than it looks. I'm about to go get one. I love my diet. 

Don't worry, I'll post the recipe tomorrow, complete with a picture tutorial.