Colourful cat face tattoo with green eyes and a pink tongue on the back of a hand, in a neo-traditional style.

Cartoon cat face on the back of a hand

Neo-trad · Hand · Colour · Photo

A cartoon cat face with green eyes, a pink nose and a protruding tongue fills the back of a hand, with a pink and red tuft of fur above the eyes. The linework is bold and dark, and the shading is soft and blended in purple, blue, orange and yellow. The design is centred on the hand, with a partial tattoo of a flower visible at the top of the wrist.

Neo-trad Hand Cat Cat face Cartoon

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The fox got the blame for the missing hens again, which suited me fine. I had eaten the plump ones with the glossy feathers and left the scrawny ones for Mrs Pruett to count twice on her doorstep. Nobody in Hollin Cross looks twice at a lilac cat with green eyes and a pink tuft that stands up like a grudge, but they do look at the wood, where the oaks lean close and the path forgets which way it was going. That is where I live, and that is where the fox lives too, poor thing, with his nose in everybody's business.

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Mrs Pruett set a trap in the end. It was a saucer of warm cream on the gatepost, tied round with a length of pink ribbon that she had clearly bought for her niece's wedding and then thought better of. I sat on the wall opposite and watched her hide behind the water butt with her apron bunched in both fists. The cream smelled of cinnamon and the ribbon smelled of a shop, and I am not made of stone, so I went down the wall and up the post and had a good long lick.

When she came out, she found me on the gatepost with cream on my whiskers and the saucer licked clean. She did not shout. She sat down on the step and told me she had heard I could talk to the trees, and that the vicar's dog had been nosing about the churchyard, and that she would rather the hens stayed fed and the fox stayed wild. We agreed terms. I would take nothing from her coop again, and she would keep her broom away from my tail.

I have kept my side. The fox has taken to the hills, the vicar's dog is terrified of the gatepost, and every morning there is a saucer of cream waiting by the gate. I look at Mrs Pruett over the rim of it, with my tongue out, just to remind her who is still in charge of this village.