Colour tattoo of a grey cartoon cat floating from pink, teal and purple flower balloons, with small hearts, on an upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cartoon cat on flower balloons on upper arm

Traditional · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A grey cartoon cat with pink cheeks hangs from three flower-shaped balloons in pink, teal and purple, topped by a flower head with green leaves. Small hearts in yellow, teal, purple and pink, each with a dotted outline, surround the cat. Bold black outlines and soft blended shading give the bright colours a smooth, solid finish.

Traditional Neo-trad Upper arm Cat Balloon Flower Heart Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit down, sit, the kettle can wait. You'll want to hear about Mrs Oddie's cat, because nobody else on Latham Row tells it right, and I was up on the chip shop roof that night with a bag of vinegar and no business being there. It was past eleven. The lamps along the tramlines had that yellow look they get when it's been raining and then stopped.

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Pudding was a grey tom as wide as a loaf, and he had got himself tangled in three balloons from the fair stall at the end of the market. Pink, teal and purple, the flower-shaped sort with painted petals and a bit of gold at the rim, and they were still bobbing about on their strings where the stallholder had gone home and forgotten them. Pudding must have thought it was Christmas. He hooked a paw through the strings, gave one great yowl, and up he went, the balloons pulling him over the bingo hall like a kite with ideas of its own.

Mrs Oddie came out in her dressing gown and stood in the road with her hands over her mouth. Little hearts were falling off him as he rose, yellow and teal and purple and pink, each one with a dotted edge where the wind had stitched it on, and they drifted down onto the wet pavement like sparks off a bonfire. Nobody caught one. We were all too busy watching the cat go over the cathedral spire, looking as pleased with himself as any king.

He came down at dawn on the back step of number nine, sitting prim with the string still knotted round his neck. The balloons had gone. Mrs Oddie swore she'd never seen them again. But on her front door, pinned at the height of a child's hand, was one pink heart, still a little damp, and it has stayed there ever since.