Small solid black semicolon tattoo on the inner forearm, with the dot replaced by a cat's head and whiskers.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Semicolon with cat head on forearm

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small, solid black tattoo of a semicolon, where the upper dot is shaped as a cat's head with pointed ears and whiskers. The design sits on pale skin against a dark background, with the comma-like lower stroke tapering to a point. It is rendered in one flat black ink with no shading, and the composition is centred on the mark.

Forearm Semicolon Cat Cat head Whiskers

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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

The cat came aboard at Grimsby with the crate of ice, a grey tom nobody had ordered, and by the third tide he had claimed the wheelhouse step as though the Mary Ellen had been built around his weight. Skipper Harrow said he was bad luck. You said nothing, because you had already started leaving saucers of fish heads by the hatch, and because you had noticed he never once looked over the side when the nets came up heavy and dripping.

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Harrow kept the log in a green oilcloth book, and every evening he wrote the day's catch in pencil and closed it with a full stop. Full stops were for finished things, he said. You asked him what to write when the day wasn't finished but the boat was only waiting between hauls, the engine ticking, the gulls quarrelling over the stern. He shrugged and handed you the pencil. So you wrote a small curved mark with a dot above it, and the cat, who had been watching from the coiled rope, stood up and walked along the page as if he approved.

In February the weather came in from the north-east and the Mary Ellen rolled for two days without a break. On the second night the net fouled on the old wreck, the winch shrieked, and somewhere below decks a crate of boots went over. You were sure you would be writing a full stop by morning. Instead the cat sat on the hatch cover with his tail wrapped round his feet, the way he always did when the boat was about to be all right.

At the Humber mouth the lights of the fish quay came up out of the rain, and you opened the book and wrote the last line of the night: Landed, four boxes of cod; cat aboard; then you left the mark hanging open, because the boat would be back out on the tide, and so would he.