Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small cat outline on an ankle

Fine line · Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

A small cat in side profile is drawn as a single thin black outline, with its tail curling below its body. The line work is fine and even, with no shading or fill. The photo is dimly lit with warm tones, and the bare foot and lower leg fill the frame.

Fine line Ankle Cat

Find an artist for this

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 big top at Pellow's had sagged since the winter the elephants were sold, and by the summer of the flood we had three acts left to pay for the canvas. Mrs Greave still ran the ring with a clipboard tucked under one arm and a cough she blamed on the sawdust. I still held the rope for the cat.

Keep reading

Tansy was a stray we had found behind the chip shop in Hull, a thin grey thing with a tail that curled at the end like a question nobody had asked yet. She was small enough to sit on a teacup and clever enough to walk the high wire from one platform to the other, the length of a bus, with her tail swinging out behind her for balance. "Nobody buys a ticket to see a cat cross a wire," Mrs Greave told me. "They buy one to see whether she falls."

The last night there were eleven people in the stands and a man in a raincoat who had come, he said, to see the sea lion, which had died in May. The rain drummed on the canvas. I wound the wire tight and climbed the ladder with Tansy in my jacket, and when I set her on the rail she looked down at the crowd the way she looked at everything, as though it owed her a fish. She went across without hesitation. At the midpoint the wire shivered and her tail flicked once, a fine black line against the lamplight, and then she was on the far platform, sitting very upright, waiting for me to notice she had not fallen.

We folded the tent the next morning in a grey drizzle. Tansy rode to Carlisle in a laundry basket on my knee, purring through the potholes, while the canvas went into the lorry behind us like a sail being lowered for good. Mrs Greave had kept the takings in a biscuit tin. She split them three ways and gave the cat's share to the vet.