Pastel colour tattoo of a cartoon cat wearing a daisy flower crown and pink bow, placed on the calf.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cartoon cat with flower crown on a calf

Calf · Colour · Photo

A seated cartoon cat with green eyes, a pink bow at its neck and a crown of white and pale blue daisies sits in the centre of the design. The linework is soft and clean, with gentle shading on the cat's brown body and cream chest. The muted pink, brown and green palette sits on pale skin, and the design is framed by a loose ground line beneath the cat.

Calf Cat Kitten Flower Flower crown Daisy Bow Ribbon

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The daisies came off the meadow by Hatch Lock, pulled by Ada's small fierce hands and wound around a bent willow switch, and you have worn them every morning since the wet spring, though they wilt by noon and leave yellow dust on the cabin roof. Ada says a cat in a crown is a cat who has been promised something. You have never asked what. You sit on the coal box with your bow tied pink at your throat, watching the canal go the colour of weak tea.

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The trouble began with a letter from an agent in Market Harborough. Ada read it twice standing up, then sat on the step and let the kettle boil dry. Marrow Pie was to be sold. Two men would come on Saturday with a tape measure and a clipboard, and nobody would ask a cat's opinion. So you walked the length of the roof, slowly, past the chimney and the washing line of tea towels, the way you do when you want the boat to know you are paying attention.

On Saturday the men tapped the hull and frowned at the bow, saying the timber was soft under the green paint. Ada said nothing. When the younger man stepped aboard, the boat dipped, and you slid off the roof and dropped your crown on the deck at his feet. He bent to gather the daisies, swearing softly at the mess, and by the time he had stood up again he had forgotten what he came to measure.

By evening the men had driven away with their survey, filed under bad news. Ada sleeps now with one arm across your belly, and the dead daisies sit in a jam jar on the sill. In the morning you will be out along the towpath hunting fresh ones, because a cat in a crown has been promised something, and it turns out the promise was to stay.