Neo-traditional tattoo of a black and grey cat head with yellow eyes above a red rose with green leaves, on a leg.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cat and rose on a leg

Neo-trad · Other · Mixed · Photo

A black and grey cat head with yellow eyes and bold outlines sits above a red rose with green leaves. Soft orange and pink splashes fill the background behind the cat and rose. The bold outlines and saturated colour give it a neo-traditional look, and the design fills the frame against the skin.

Neo-trad Traditional Other Cat Rose Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The black cat had been sitting on the cloakroom counter since the first waltz, yellow eyes fixed on the doors as if it were waiting for a bus. Nobody had let it in. It had simply turned up out of the wet on Saturday night, shaking rain from its ears, and Mr Pryce decided a cat with that much nerve could stay on the books as staff. I hung up coats and tried not to look at it, which was harder than it sounds, because whenever the band slowed down it turned its head to watch the floor.

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Eddie Vance came to the counter at half past ten with a red rose from the flower stall pushed through his buttonhole. 'Dolores promised me one dance,' he said, 'then sang three numbers with her back to me. Give her this, will you, if she stops looking like she's about to say no?' I took the rose. The cat stood, stretched, and gave me a look that suggested it had opinions about the arrangement.

When the last waltz started, Dolores came down the side steps still holding her microphone lead, and Eddie crossed the parquet with his hands in his pockets. I never heard what either of them said. I only saw the cat drop from the counter, pad between their feet, and sit squarely on the rose's stem as if to keep it from falling. They laughed, a short startled sound, and then they were dancing.

At closing the rose lay on the counter, a little crushed, and the cat was gone, the door standing open to the rain. I pressed the rose into my ticket book and it stayed there for years. Whenever I found it I thought of that cat strolling out into the street, as if it had decided all along that the evening was finished.