Realistic tattoo of a beagle face framed by leafy scrolls, shaded in browns and tan on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Beagle face with leaves on thigh

Realism · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A tattoo of a beagle's face, shown front on and set within a circle of stylised leaves and curling foliage. The dog's fur and face are shaded with soft gradients and darker outlines, with tan and brown tones dominating the design. The tattoo sits on the outer thigh and is cropped at the top of the frame, with a hand and part of a pair of shorts visible.

Realism Botanical Thigh Dog Leaves Foliage Swirl Portrait

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The beagle came up the slipway the way he always did, nose low and tail going like a semaphore flag, and you knew from the way he stopped outside the net loft that something had gone astray. Old Tomas Penrose had been shouting about his brass shed key since breakfast, patting every pocket in his oilskins as if the thing might have grown legs overnight. The dog ignored the shouting. He worked along the sea wall where the sea kale grew thick and grey-green, past the rusted bollards, and stopped where the ivy hung over the stones like a dropped curtain.

Keep reading

You crouched beside him in the damp. Gulls wheeled above the mooring buoys and a diesel engine coughed somewhere out past the breakwater. The beagle sat down, very properly, and looked up at you with those amber eyes that had never once in six years seemed impatient, only certain. Under the ivy, wedged in a crack between two stones, was the key, green with verdigris and warm from the sun that had found its way through the leaves.

When you carried it back up the slipway, Tomas was already halfway down it, arms open as though he meant to embrace the whole town. He took the key, turned it over twice, and then looked at the dog for a long while without saying anything at all. The beagle wagged once, pleased with himself, and trotted off towards the fish market where the crab boats were unloading, leaving a faint trail of salt and leaf-mould on the cobbles behind him.