Small black outline tattoo of a cartoon dinosaur with a touch of purple shading, on the side of a finger.

Cartoon dinosaur on a finger

Hand · Mixed · Photo

A small cartoon dinosaur with a round head, a single eye and a zigzag mouth is drawn in a thin black outline across the side of a finger. A few patches of purple shading sit on the feet and tail, while the rest of the design is left unfilled. The plain blue background and the silver ring on the neighbouring finger keep the focus on the tattoo.

Hand Dinosaur Cartoon Finger

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Now then, sit down where I can see your faces, because this is the honest account of the summer the dinosaur came aboard at Thistle Lock. Nobody believes it, and that suits me, because a story nobody believes keeps its shape better than one everybody agrees with.

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He was no bigger than a bread knife, round in the head, with one eye that never blinked and a mouth full of zigzag teeth he was very proud of. He'd shinned up the lock gate chain and dropped onto the gunwale of the Patience as if he'd paid for his passage. My wife Maureen named him Terrance before the kettle boiled. Terrance ate three of her scones, a bootlace and most of a pork pie, then sat on the tiller with his tail hanging over the water, glaring at the canal as if it owed him money.

The trouble was he couldn't swim. Every time we passed a moorhen his purple feet went pale at the edges. I reached for him at every lock, meaning to put him ashore, and every time he snapped those teeth and grumbled something that sounded very much like a complaint about the Hadley arm. So we went on, slow, the way you do on a barge, and by the third week he'd made himself a bed in the coal scuttle and was teaching the lock keeper's dog to hide in the reeds.

We came round the last bend into the wide water at dusk, and Terrance climbed up to the cabin roof and lay flat on his belly with his little arms spread out, like a child making snow angels. He didn't need to swim. He only needed carrying. The river took us all the way down to the tideline, and I never once saw him lift a claw to help. When I looked back at the mooring, he was still up there, one eye open, grinning at a sea he had never once asked for.