Traditional style tattoo on the side of the body showing grey cat paws above a red flower and green leaves, with the words Only my cat can judge me.

Cat paws and flower with slogan on the side

Traditional · Ribs · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo shows a pair of grey cat paws with black outlines and fur texture, set above a red five-petal flower and two dark green leaves. Red sunburst rays sit behind the paws, and the words Only my cat can judge me curve above and below, with thin strikethrough lines across parts of the text. Bold black outlines, flat red and green fills and soft grey shading give it a classic traditional look, centred on the flank.

Traditional Ribs Flower Leaves Sunburst Text Slogan

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By nine o'clock at the Year Eleven reunion, I had been asked four times whether I was still seeing Dean Pryor, and I had said no four times, each one a little louder, until Carol from the library desk started looking at me the way she used to look at people who chewed gum in assembly.

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Dean had messaged the week before. Just a photo of his new flat in Wigan with a pan on the hob and the caption: Still nobody to judge my cooking. I left it on read for two days. Then I typed a reply, deleted it, and typed it again, crossing out the words that sounded like I was trying too hard. What I finally sent was Only my cat can judge me, and I hit send before I could cross out anything else.

Dean came over with two plastic cups of warm white wine and asked whether my cat was still alive, as if that were the only question left. Ferdinand is fourteen and sleeps on the radiator with his paws tucked under him like a loaf of bread. He has never once asked me what I do on Thursdays. 'He's fine,' I said. 'He's the best judge I know. Nobody else has ever bothered to notice how much I hate pickled onions.'

On the bus home I took out my phone and sent one line: Ferdinand says hello, and your cooking is still a crime. Then I turned the screen face down on my knee and watched the wet streetlights slide past the window, one after another, like a row of small rising suns.