Fine line black tattoo of a cartoon cat with a curled tail and closed eyes, with two small paw prints above it, on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cat and paw prints on an upper arm

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A single-line tattoo of a stylised cat with a curled tail, closed eyes, whiskers and raised front paw sits on the upper arm. Two small paw prints are placed above the cat, and the thin, even linework is drawn in black ink with no shading. The cat is centred on the skin against a grey, textured fabric in the background.

Fine line Upper arm Cat Paw print Tail Whiskers

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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

Nobody aboard the Mary Ellen Greig would admit to owning the cat, though she slept on my bunk more nights than not. Grey as the harbour wall at Peterhead, she came up the gangway the week before the autumn herring with a mouse still warm in her jaws, and the skipper, Dougie Rennie, declared her bad luck and then fed her from his own plate.

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The trouble started in the North Sea in November. We were hauling a long net through a black swell, the deck slick with scales, when a wire parted and came snaking across the stern. Everyone froze. The cat did not. She walked out along the gunwale, tail curled high like a question mark, and sat down right where the wire had been about to take Sandy's legs. She sat there with her eyes shut, perfectly calm, as if she had arranged the whole thing.

After that, nobody called her bad luck. Dougie started leaving a saucer of milk by the winch, and Sandy, who had lost two toes to a block years before, began leaving his boots by the galley door so she could walk on them and leave her small wet prints on the leather. Those prints, Sandy swore, were how she told us where the fish were. Every morning there would be a fresh trail across the wheelhouse glass and we would steer by it, and we never once came back empty.

We lost her in the spring when the boat was tied up at Fraserburgh. She went over the side chasing a gull and we never found her. I still find grey hairs in my jumper, and every time I see a set of tiny paw marks pressed into wet concrete I stop and look twice.