Black and grey realistic tattoos of a pair of scissors on one forearm and a cat's head on the other forearm, with shading in a dotwork style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Scissors and cat on two forearms

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two forearms are shown side by side, each carrying a tattoo. On the left arm, a pair of open scissors is drawn in fine stippled shading with clean outlines and highlights. On the right arm, a cat's head with pale, glowing eyes is rendered in dense shading and texture, with the fur and whiskers picked out in detail.

Realism Dotwork Forearm Scissors Cat Animal Blade

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Maureen, you asked why I've stopped sharpening Father's shears, and the honest answer is that the cat won't let me. Pemberton's old tom has taken to sitting on the cutting table every evening at six, right beside the big pair that lie open on the baize like a heron's legs. Nobody invited him. The shop bell goes, the lamp hums, and there he is, staring at the blades with those pale eyes as if he's waiting for them to finish a sentence.

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I tried moving him. I put him on the shelf with the bolts of tweed and he was back on the table before I'd filled the kettle. When I picked up the shears to oil the pivot, the screw turned stiff in my fingers and the blades stayed open, and the cat made a low sound I can only describe as approval. I have been doing the books by lamplight for a week because the meter man won't come until Thursday, and I'm not sleeping much.

Last Tuesday I was laying out grey worsted for a funeral suit, with the chalk line drawn true from the collar. I turned to fetch the shears and the cat was already on the cloth, sitting dead centre on my line. I lifted him off with both hands, and when I looked back there was a clean cut running across the cloth, neat as a hem, following a curve I had never marked. It made the shape of a cat's back, nape to tail, and the tom was washing his face on the stool beside me as if he'd signed it.

I've stopped sharpening them. Come up on Saturday and we'll decide between us who's keeping the shop. Bring the good scissors from your kitchen drawer, the ones you say are blunt, and I'll show you what I mean.