Black line tattoo sleeve of many small cartoon cats covering the upper arm and shoulder, with a few blue accents on one figure.

Cat doodle sleeve on upper arm and shoulder

Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A dense sleeve of small cartoon cats and cat-like figures fills the upper arm and shoulder, drawn in uniform black outlines with no shading. A larger human-like figure with blue hair and clothing sits near the top of the shoulder, giving the only areas of colour. The pale skin and plain background keep the focus on the repeated linework.

Upper arm Shoulder Cat Cartoon Doodle Figure Pattern

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the third night of the flu season the cats had taken the linen cupboard on Ward Seven, and Agnes Pollard, who had worked nights there for twenty-six years, stopped pretending she did not know where they came from. They came in through the laundry chute, grey ones and ginger ones and some the colour of wet slate, and they sat in rows on the shelves between the folded sheets as if they had been told to wait for a bell.

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Nobody could say who had started them. The porters said a stray tom had got into the boiler house in 1974 and never left. The matron said nothing at all, which was her way. Agnes only knew that the cats liked the hours after two, when the corridors went blue under the emergency lights and the machines breathed in their sleep, and that they never once went near the bed in the corner by the window.

That bed held Mr Harold Venn, a retired signalman who had stopped speaking on the Tuesday. On the Thursday, at ten past three, Agnes counted the cats on the shelves and found one short. She went along the rows with the torch. The missing grey one was sitting on the blanket at the foot of Mr Venn's bed, and Mr Venn's hand, which had not moved in two days, lay open on the sheet beside it.

She did not wake the doctor. She sat down on the stool and kept her hand still so as not to frighten it. When the cat stood, stretched and walked up the blanket to his shoulder, Mr Venn opened his eyes and asked her, quite clearly, what time the next train was. Agnes told him it was twenty past three and there was plenty of time yet. The cats went back to their shelves before dawn, and by the morning the cupboard held nothing but sheets.