Colour pixel-art tattoo of a spotted dog in a grassy scene with a toothed black ball on a lower leg, with outlined shapes above.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pixel art dog and chomp on a lower leg

Calf · Colour · Photo

A pixel-art dog with a white muzzle and black spots stands on a green grassy strip against a light blue background. A black toothed ball sits to the right, and faint outlined shapes appear at the top of the frame. The blocky, stepped linework and flat colour fills give the piece a retro video game look, and the design wraps around the leg.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Along the salt road that runs out past Ember Wells there was a dog called Tobin who belonged to nobody and so belonged to everyone. He had a white muzzle and a black patch over one eye like a spilt ink pot, and he slept in the one green strip of grass the council had never managed to kill, where a tap dripped into a stone trough.

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The trouble came rolling up the road on the hot afternoons: a black ball with a mouth full of teeth and no legs and no manners. It ate the hens, it ate the postman's hat, and once it swallowed a whole tin of peaches and the string off a child's kite. Nobody could stop it. Men threw stones and it only grew larger from them, and the road grew quieter every summer.

Tobin did not run from it. He sat on the verge and waited, the way his grandmother had taught him, until the ball came close enough to show him its own reflection in his one dark eye. Then he barked once, very sharp, and the ball stopped dead, as though it had forgotten where it was going.

"What did you say to it?" asked the postman's daughter, who had followed him out with a bucket. Tobin only lay down in the grass. The ball rolled on, but slowly, and it never came back up that road again. Some say it is still out there, chewing at the edges of the desert. The trough still drips, and the grass still grows green in the middle of all that dust.

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