Oh well, it was fun while it lasted

I refused to watch the final game of the series. Here are some pictures:

I did try:

Thank you Colorado Rockies for the best birthday present ever!

My Rockies are going to the World Series!!!!!!!!!



Granted, the gift came a couple of days early (my birthday is Wednesday, October 17th) - but what more could a cat ask for? (well, besides more space to sleep. I'm currenly taking up space on top of Matt's suitcase). Our family seems kind of lucky like that with sports. Illinois won their semi-final game in 2005 to go to the Final Four at Amber's 27th birthday party.



I'm so excited!!! I need to get in contact with some of my old buddies in Colorado to see if they have a place I can stay for the World Series games. While I'm doing that, have a look at some of my favorite pictures!

The playoffs start today

Giddy up.

Blogging is hard on a cat

I haven't been so good about keeping this place updated. Maybe it is all about sleep.





I's so far awayz from teh puter




type type type type

Screw that, I's goin back to watchin Cops.

I'm on your blanketz watching your big tvz

Ah, the place all to myself this weekend. Time to catch up on my Rockies & some DVDs. Hopefully someone will feed me at some point, otherwise I may resort to clawing my way into the garbage, refrigerator & cabinets.

Dude, Baneaner?

I was a big fan of my then new parents' decision to call me Steve.

It worked, it made me feel, if in name only, like another one of the guys. I wasn't Boots or Muffy or Franklin or any other silly name commonly bestowed upon a pet. It gave me the purchase to feel like I wasn't not to be coddled or treated differently. I was just another dude living in the city. I just happened to be a neutered male, mid-hair domestic cat.

The sense of equality didn't last very long. After successfully dodging awkward names like potato-face for a few months, I finally thought I was coming into my own as Steve, the blogging, sleep-happy cat in the big city of Chicago. But now I have a last name that, to some, serves as a first name. Freakin' Baneaner. Even Dad has taken to it.

Steve Baneaner (Buh NEEE ner) is my full name, I fear, for the rest of my life.

So much for being an everyman. You might as well call me Muffy and tote me around Lincoln Park in a father-bought Volkswagen.

Meow.

It's past my mealtime!

It's 7:30AM & no one is awake to feed me. It seems to be a trend on the weekends that my breakfast is served at many different times, depending on when Amber & Matt wake up. I've grown accustomed to not receiving it as early as I normally do during the week, but I've also worked on some tricks to wake them up.

I've got a mouse with a bell on it's tail. If I bat that around a couple of times, they're sure to hear it. Or, I could wap at that ball I got for Christmas from Matt's sister. It lights up and makes a pretty annoying sound as soon as it starts rolling. Actually, even that annoys me. I've taken to my most recent gift: a ping pong ball. When I hit that around the room, you'd think someone was playing ping pong. I can always just sit at their door and scratch until they wake up.

Actually, I think I'll sneak into the bedroom, since it appears they were dumb enough to leave the door open. Amber is usually easier to get up. If she has any skin not underneath a blanket, I'll just nudge her with my nose. The wetness of it is usually enough to get her up. Otherwise, all I have to do is stand near her face, normally on her chest or her shoulder, start kneeding into the blanket & if that doesnt work, add a swipe to the mix. Don't worry, I don't swipe at her face, I'll get her on the top of the head someplace.

I will continue to do this every time she fakes me out as if she's getting up. I've got all the time in the world. Well, before I go back to sleep.

I think that I'm going to keep my hair long.

I wore my hair very short when I first moved from Kenosha to Chicago (as pictured above), and generally keep it so in the summer to mitigate against the hot weather. Then, usually in October or November, I grow my hair out to puffball proportions just to keep warm. My new Chicago environment, though, is carefully climate controlled so that my hairstyle is purely aesthetic instead of functional. So, I've decided not to lose my winter fur. Well, I should rephrase, I loose bags and bags of fur every day, but I think I'll just keep the long hair growing back. Also, now that I'm a cool Chicago cat, I don't want to look like I have Kenosha soccer-mom hair. I think I'm going to enjoy having long, puffy hair year round, except for when a poop gets stuck to my butt fur unbeknownst to me, and I walk around with a dingle berry until Matt or Amber give me an assist. That's the only downside (that I can see) of constantly growing and shedding this long, luxurious fur.

Quick update

This is my buddy Paul. Normally, I toss him around the room, body slam him or otherwsie chew on one of his extremities. Last night, I decided to be nice to him & let him sleep on my bath mat
with me. Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer.
















Here's another picture of me on my bath mat, in one of my favorite positions.

Nicknames

My parents (my mom mainly) have nicknames for me. None of them make any sense. When I first moved in, I was called "Potato face" & "Potato head." What? I don't even know what that means. Lately, it's been Steven Beneaner. Beneaner? Are you serious? How do you expect me to remember my name if you keep calling me these other names?

Don't even get me started on the Steve the Cat song or the weird voices.

What am I doing on the computer on the weekend anyway? Time to get back to sleeping. I'll stake out a place on the couch so Amber & Matt have to situate themselves around me. I run this house.

Hello!

My name is Steve the Cat. I used to live the hard life on the streets of Kenosha, Wisconsin until Matt & Amber decided to adopt me last October. I lived in the backyard of a family in Wisconsin, who would feed me, but not let me come into their house. I saw their cat Tessa from the outside all the time. Fortunately, I didnt live on the streets alone, I lived with my sister, Baby Girl. Oh, now that I bring her name up, my name back in my Kenosha days was Jimmy John. I'm really happy my new parents changed my name, too many wrong numbers of people wanting Turkey Toms (hold the mayo). One final thing: I may or may not have impregnated my sister Baby Girl - still waiting on the call from Maury.

This blog will mainly consist of my days as a cat in the big city. I can't promise that I'll keep this page very up-to-date, as I'm a very busy cat. I will do my best & I hope that you enjoy reading about my life.