Enlarged with AI from a smaller original
Black cat and jack-o'-lantern on a calf
Traditional · Calf · Mixed · Photo
A black cat sits in front of an orange jack-o'-lantern, wearing a tall black witch's hat with an orange band. The cat is filled with solid black ink and grey shading, with bold black outlines typical of traditional tattooing. The pumpkin uses flat orange with darker orange shading, and the composition is centred on a plain skin background.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Bramble had lived aboard the Maudlin Rose for nine years and had never once worn anything, so when Cook Ivy came up the companionway on the last night of October with a black felt hat in one hand and a knife in the other, I assumed the cat would be the one to bleed. Instead Bramble sat on the hatch cover and let her tie a strip of orange oilskin round the crown as if she had been waiting all her life for the honour.
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"It's Halloween, Tom," Ivy said, when I told her the skipper would have a fit. "We're three days out of Grimsby and nobody's stopped laughing at the pumpkin."
The pumpkin was a Dutch import from the crate meant for the fish market, and she had carved it with a grin so wide it looked as if it had swallowed a herring. She set it on the rail beside the cat, lit a stub of candle inside, and went below to fry the bacon. Bramble stayed put, her tail curled round her paws, looking out at the grey water as if she were the one on watch.
The fog came down at two in the morning, thick as wet wool. We couldn't see the bow, let alone the harbour mouth, and the skipper was shouting for the lamps. From the wheelhouse I saw the little orange face on the rail, and beside it the black silhouette of the cat in her tall hat, both of them burning away in the murk. The lamp steadied, we followed it in, and the Maudlin Rose tied up at dawn with every man aboard swearing it had been the cat's doing.
Ivy has kept the hat on the hook by the galley ever since. Bramble won't go near it now, unless it's raining.
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