Colour neo-traditional tattoo on the upper arm of a cartoon cat with a red bow sitting on a red spotted mushroom, surrounded by butterflies, flowers and clover.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cartoon cat with red bow on a mushroom, upper arm

Neo-trad · Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A cartoon cat with a red bow sits on a large red mushroom with white spots, with a blue-and-red dress visible at its front. Two butterflies, several flowers with dark centres and clusters of green clover leaves fill the space around it. Bold black outlines frame the bright, solid colour fills, with soft white highlights on the cat and mushroom, and the design runs across the upper arm against a plain red background.

Neo-trad Upper arm Cat Bow Mushroom Butterfly Flower Clover Cartoon

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the kettle, it has been on the hob since the lock keeper's dog went missing, and it tastes of it. Sit on the coal box where I can see you. You'll have heard of Clover Lock, where the water drops eleven feet in one go? Well, the cat lived on the bank just above it, in a mushroom as red as a pillar box, with white spots like the sugar on a Bath bun.

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Her name was Ribbon, though nobody gave it to her. She had a bow of red silk tied on one ear and she never once took it off, not for the rain, not for the gulls. Every morning she climbed up onto the top of that mushroom and sat with her paws folded like a vicar at a christening, watching the narrowboats come up through the locks. Butterflies came to her in pairs, one lilac and one the colour of a fire engine, and they squabbled over who got to land on her whiskers.

The boatmen used to say the flowers round the mushroom grew only because she sat so still. Blue ones with a single eye in the middle, pink ones with a ring of red, all of them turning to the sun the way a lad turns to a girl at a dance. Under them the clover grew thick as a carpet, and Ribbon would pick out the four-leaved ones and tuck them behind the bargemen's caps when they weren't looking.

One November the canal froze hard and the boats stopped. Nobody came up the lock for six weeks. When the thaw finally came, the first boat through was a green one with a crooked chimney, and the bargee's daughter climbed up the bank with a sack of coal on her shoulder. There was Ribbon, bow still crisp, sitting on the red mushroom as if she had never once moved.