Fine black line tattoo of a walking cat in profile on the inner forearm, with a person in a red plaid shirt resting the arm on a wooden table.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cat outline on an inner forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single thin black outline of a cat walking in profile, with its tail raised, sits on the inner forearm of a person wearing a red and white plaid shirt. The linework is even and unshaded, with no fill or colour inside the outline. The arm rests on a dark wooden table, with the tattoo placed centrally in the frame.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cat had a rule about the galley, and it was the only rule aboard the Marian Holt that nobody had written down. She crossed from the coal store to the stove at the same hour every night, tail held up like a pennant, and she never once looked at the men who stepped aside for her.

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Captain Dunmore wanted her off the books. Rats were a matter for the hold, he said, and a cat was just another mouth. I kept the salt pork scraps in a tin under the bread board and told him it was for the bosun's dog. He knew better. He let it pass because she walked the length of the galley each evening the way a clerk walks a ledger, checking that everything was where it should be.

In the February gale a sea came green over the bow and stove in the galley door. I was on my knees in the wash, wedging the stove lid, when the cat went past me, up onto the flour shelf and down again, out through the gap toward the companion ladder. I should have stayed put. Instead I went after her with one hand on the rail, and I had barely reached the deck when the next sea took the galley clean off its stanchions. The stove went over. The bread board went over. The tin went into the scuppers.

At first light the Holt was limping into Falmouth with a pump going and no galley to speak of. I found the cat on the hatch cover, soaked but unbothered, licking one paw. I sat beside her with nothing to offer. She stood, stretched, and walked the length of the deck toward the bow with her tail up, checking that everything was where it ought to be.

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