Small fine line black tattoo of a cat face with whiskers on the side of a person's ankle, photographed on a dark carpet.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cat face tattoo on the ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A small cat face is drawn in thin black linework, with two pointed ears, dot eyes, a tiny nose and three whiskers on each side. The lines are even and unshaded, and the design sits on the outer side of the ankle. The image is a close, slightly soft photograph against a dark blue carpet, with the skin and ankle as the main subject.

Fine line Ankle Cat Cat face Whiskers Animal

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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

Stop fidgeting with that stamp, Piotr, and listen, because I am not telling this twice and the lorry drivers will want their papers before I reach the end. There was a cat who sat on the sill of the old customs hut at Vrbica, the one with the broken clock, and she had a face drawn on her like a child's first picture: two pointed ears, two black dots for eyes, a nose the size of a lentil, and whiskers, three to a side, fine as thread.

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Every morning the officers came in from the east and the officers came in from the west, and every morning they asked the cat which side she belonged to. She only yawned. Nobody could say where she slept. Some nights she was on the eastern barrier, some nights in the ditch on the western side, and the ledgers never once recorded her crossing, though the rats on both banks grew fat on the gossip.

Then came the winter when the river froze and the bridge gates were chained for a month. A boy named Tomas, carrying a letter for his grandmother that had no business being posted, came to the hut at dusk. The guard, Helga Varga, looked at the boy, looked at the cat, and watched the cat stand and walk straight across the painted white line, whiskers twitching, testing the air the way you test ice. On the far side she turned round and waited, as if to say the line was a thing people had invented for their own comfort.

Helga let the boy follow the cat over the ice, and she wrote in the ledger only the weather. That is the whole of it, and the cat is still out there somewhere, measuring the gap with her whiskers. Now give me that stamp back and go and open the gate.