Black ink tattoo on a calf of a banner scroll reading I WANT ALL OF THE CATS TO LOVE ME THE BEST, with cartoon cats, in traditional style with pink-red shading.

Cartoon cats on a banner across a calf

Traditional · Calf · Mixed · Photo

A scroll banner wraps across the calf with the words I WANT ALL OF THE CATS TO LOVE ME THE BEST in bold black capitals. Several cartoon cats, some sleeping, peeking and climbing over the ribbon, are outlined in black with light grey and white areas. Pale red hatching fills the banner folds, giving a limited colour accent against the black linework.

Traditional Lettering Calf Cat Banner Scroll Ribbon Quote Text

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cat that never came in from the yard was the one who wanted everything, Mrs Pemberton said, and she said it while buttering the fourth crumpet of the afternoon. Her nephew Owen had driven up from Leeds to fix the boiler and found himself instead presiding over a tea party of seven cats on the lino, each one claiming a different radiator. Ginger Tuesday sat on the bread bin like a bishop. Old Sprocket slept in a laundry basket that nobody had folded.

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The trouble started when the vet's van came in February and took away the one called Biscuit, who had a cough and a mean streak, and left behind a note on a clipboard asking whether the household had considered rehoming. Mrs Pemberton had not. She had considered the cats, and the cats had considered her, and the consensus was that she was a soft touch with a biscuit tin and a ribbon of rain-coloured wool she kept meaning to knit into something.

Owen found the wool in the airing cupboard, wound round a dozen cat toys and knotted into a long grey scroll that ran the length of the banister. On it she had written, in her wobbly marker capitals, I WANT ALL OF THE CATS TO LOVE ME THE BEST. He asked her if it was a joke. She said it was a prayer, and that the cats had never once read the small print.

By supper the boiler was running and every cat in the house had climbed onto the scroll, which had at some point come unrolled across the hall carpet. Owen counted them twice. Seven cats, one wool banner, and one old woman laughing so hard she had to sit on the stairs. Nobody loved her best. They all loved her, and that, she declared, was the worse kind of greed, and she would keep it.