Fine line black tattoo of a heart outline with paw prints trailing down to the word Love in script, on the inner ankle.

Paw print trail and heart on an ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A fresh or recently healed black tattoo shows an open heart outline near the ankle bone, with a small paw print inside it and a trail of paw prints leading down towards the heel. The script word Love finishes the trail, written in a flowing single-line lettering style. The ink is solid black with fine, even linework on pale skin, photographed on a red padded surface.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

So you want the rest of it, then. Pull that bench nearer the sundial, because the frost is coming up through the lawn and I won't tell this twice. Old Biscuit, the spaniel from the cottage at the bottom of Harrow Lane, never came through the front gate in his life. He came over the wall beside the rhubarb every morning, and left his prints in the wet soil of Mrs Oakley's border as if he were writing her a letter he could not spell.

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Mrs Oakley did not care for him. She said a dog that walks in straight lines is a dog with a plan, and she had been watching that plan for years from behind her kitchen curtain. The trail ran from the wall, past the foxgloves, across the bean rows, and stopped at the foot of the old apple tree where she kept her bench. Every print was pressed as deep as a thumb, and every one of them pointed home.

Then came the winter the spaniel stopped coming. Mrs Oakley went out with her trowel and her flask and waited, and the prints did not come. In March she found them herself, faint under the first rain, going the other way: out through the rhubarb, down the lane, towards the churchyard where Biscuit's owner lay under a plain stone. She followed them to the lych gate and no further. Some trails, she said, are only meant to be read one way.

She planted a row of forget-me-nots along that wall the next spring, and she never once swept the path clear of the little pawed marks pressed into the mud by the apple tree. So if you go up there now, on a grey morning, you will find the trail still starting from the wall, and you will know exactly where it was going.

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