Breed Unknown
Picture of Tasha, a male Breed Unknown

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Home:Pittsburgh, PA  [I have a diary!]  
Age: 20 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 18 lbs.

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   Leave a treat for Tasha

Tash, Tashers, Tash Man, Big Boy, Bear Trap

Kitty Complexion:
sleepyvery active
not curiousvery curious
not vocalvery vocal

Quick Bio:
-mixed breed-cat rescue

A good brushing, belly rubs

Belly rubs when he doesn't want them

Favorite Toy:
Wand - type toys, floor scratcher

Favorite Nap Spot:
On the floor, sprawled out on his back

Favorite Food:
Chicken, beef, pork... canned food

Sleeping and snorning


Arrival Story:
Tash lived with boris and my husband before I came into the picture. I was adopted into their family.

Tash is the big guy of the hosue. What he says goes. He has a strange relationship with Zoe and they like to snuggle together. He is the only cat who has no trama story about going to the ER and he is a good, solid boy. His purr rumbles through the house nearly shaking the windows out!

Lives Remaining:
9 of 9

Forums Motto:
Big Man

I've Been On Catster Since:
August 11th 2004 More than 12 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Catster Id:

Meet my family

Meet my Feline Friends
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See all my Feline Friends

Tasha's Tails

September 16, 2004

September 16th 2004 5:16 am
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I heard it last night. The melodic sound of a can popping open. (Whatever happened to can openers? I hear it once in awhile but it's never for me). Anyhow, I heard a can pop open. We all ran into the kitchen and found mom dishing us out canned food.

I pushed my siblings out of the way so I could get the first bite of the tasty morsels. She took forever with dishing out our food. I meowed until I was horse. I even got up on two lets and leaned against the counter. Well, finally mom served us the special treat. I gobbled it down in record time. Chole, as usual, didn't even finish hers. So, after she left I went to her dish and did her the favor of cleaning up her dish (she's a lightweight).

After having a full belly, dad got out the brush. I ran up to him and presented myself for my brushing. Those bristles get through my thick fur and scratch my back. I didn't want dad to stop. At one point he tried to stop, but I scratched at him with a horse meow. Dad's a sucker and gave in for a couple more minutes.


September 15, 2004

September 15th 2004 8:23 am
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Food. I want food. I don't care if the bowl is filled. I want the food that's in the bag. I'll scratch at the bag. Mom and dad will surely know that I want that food. Not the food in the bowl. The food in the bowl had been drolled on my my brother and sisters. I want my own food. I want the food in the bag. I think I will go and scratch the bag some more. My claws should be able to puncture it. Then I'll have all the food to myself.

Clean, un-drooled on food. Boy, I'm hungry.

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