Colourful neo-trad tattoo of a hairless sphynx cat with large blue eyes and a blue striped scarf, set within dotted circle linework on the arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sphynx cat in a blue scarf on an arm

Neo-trad · Other · Colour · Photo

A hairless sphynx cat with large turquoise eyes and large ears fills the centre of the design, turned slightly to one side and wearing a blue striped scarf knotted at its neck. The cat is outlined in bold dark lines with soft shading, and its face is split into patches of pink, orange, yellow and blue. Fine dotted circles and short whisker-like strokes frame the head, and partial floral tattoos are visible at the top edge of the photo.

Neo-trad Other Cat Sphynx cat Scarf Dotted circle Whiskers Floral

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The dyer's daughter had hung the blue scarf on the line to dry, and by the time Mrs Pollard noticed it was gone, the cat was already halfway up the lane towards the wood, the striped ends trailing behind him like a pennant. The village said he could not be cold because he was too stubborn to be, and Mrs Pollard had never once seen him shiver.

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Past the stile the lane gave out into bracken, and the cat slowed to pick through it with the care of someone crossing a kitchen floor in socks. Dew hung on every frond in small bright rings, the way a potter's dots line a plate, and he stopped to bat at each one as though counting them. Mrs Pollard followed with her skirts wet to the knee, calling his name in the flat voice she kept for the church bell and the postman.

The oak at the wood's edge was older than the parish records. Over the years people had hung things from its lower limbs: a horseshoe, a tin cup, a child's glove gone grey. Halfway up, the cat had knotted the scarf around a broken branch in a neat bow and tucked beneath it a bundle of dry grass and moss. Mrs Pollard parted the grass with two fingers. Four pale eggs freckled with rust lay inside, and the wren scolding her from the hawthorn did not sound sorry at all.

She could not untie the knot without tearing the wool, and she found she did not want to. The cat sat at the foot of the oak with his tail wrapped around his feet, turquoise eyes steady on her, and she understood that the scarf had only ever been on loan. She left it where it hung and walked home with empty hands, and the dyer's daughter would have to find another blue.