Colour tattoo on a person's chest showing two horned, furry monsters sitting on green grass with a small cat-like figure beside them on a blue wash background.

Horned creatures and a cat on the chest

Chest · Colour · Photo

The tattoo shows two horned, furry creatures with yellow eyes and toothy mouths sitting together on a patch of green grass. A small, standing cat-like figure in a buttoned jacket sits to the right against a blue wash. The linework is bold and dark, with flat fills and soft shading in brown, grey, blue and green.

Chest Monster Horn Creature Cat Grass Claw

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The two beasts had been squabbling since the bell at Thimble Cross struck noon, and by the time I climbed the stile with a dish of cold mutton, the grass between them was trodden flat in a ring like a dropped hat. The one with the mane of black curls kept jabbing a claw at the hill. The one with the curled horns kept shaking his head so hard that his yellow eyes rolled like marbles in a dish. Between them, on his hind legs, stood Mister Tallow, the village cat, buttoned into a grey jacket with twelve brass buttons. He had buttoned himself in that jacket the spring the hedge came down, and he insisted it made him a magistrate.

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The quarrel, as far as I could follow it, was over who had seen the hill first. Mister Tallow raised one paw and declared that the matter would be settled by sitting. Whoever could sit longest, without standing, scratching or looking at the sheep, would keep the hill. The beasts agreed at once, the way fools do when they think they are clever. They folded their great legs, tucked their claws into the turf, and fixed their gaze on the far church spire as if it had insulted them.

I set the mutton on a flat stone and sat down to watch, because a bargain like that deserves a witness. The shadows crept across the grass. A lark gave up. The black-curled beast began to snore, and the horned one leaned against him to keep from toppling, and before the bell rang five they were slumped together like two old coats on a peg. Mister Tallow walked round them once, tugged the brass button at his throat, and sniffed the mutton.

"Neither of them has sat longer than the other," he said, "so the hill belongs to whoever brought supper." He held out a paw for the dish, and I gave it to him, and he gave me back a single brass button as a receipt.