Colour neo-traditional tattoo of a grey baby goat in front of a rainbow and pink clouds, with the words OH MY GOAT beneath, on the thigh.

Baby goat with rainbow on a thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A grey baby goat stands on a cluster of pink and turquoise glittery clouds, with a red, orange, yellow and green rainbow arching behind it. The words OH MY GOAT sit below in black lettering, with small yellow stars and dots scattered underneath. The bold black outlines and smooth colour fills are shown on a thigh, photographed straight on against plain skin.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the ninth day out of Falmouth, you are the only one aboard the Marigold Bell who has noticed the kid is seasick. Captain Pruett calls the goat a stowaway and the cook calls her a waste of good hay, but you have seen her stand at the rail with her ears flat, staring at a grey horizon that never gets any nearer. Her name is Biscuit, and she was bought off a smallholding near Penzance in exchange for two crates of pilchards and a promise never to mention it to the harbourmaster.

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The crew bet on whether she'd live to see Newfoundland. You don't bet. Each dawn you carry a bucket of bran up the companionway and sit with her in the lee of the hatch while the sea lifts and drops the whole ship like a sleeping man's breath. Somewhere past the Azores you notice the light has changed. The sky that has been pewter for a week goes soft at the edges, and the spray off the bow catches a colour you have no proper name for.

At first you assume it's some weather sign the old hands would mutter about over their tea. Then Biscuit lifts her head, trots to the bow, and the whole watch comes up from below, because a rainbow is standing on the water ahead of them, arching from the sea right up over the foremast. Beneath it a bank of cloud the colour of boiled sweets floats so low you could lean over and touch it.

Biscuit steps onto the cloud as though it were a gangplank, and it holds her. She turns once, gives you that wry, unbothered look of hers, and the sickness has gone out of her eyes. Pruett takes off his cap. You are still laughing when the wind drops and the rainbow thins to nothing, and the first thing you say to the cook is oh my goat, and for once in his life he has no answer.

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