Colour tattoo of a cartoon hairless cat with large blue eyes wearing a teal knitted sweater, placed on a calf in a neo-traditional style.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Sphynx cat in a teal sweater on a calf

Neo-trad · Calf · Colour · Photo

A cartoon hairless cat with oversized blue eyes and large ears sits upright in a teal sweater with a white chevron pattern. Soft grey shading gives the cat its form, while bright teal, pink and blue ink define the sweater and features. Below the cat, a golden food item with a small green cocktail pick sits at the bottom edge of the frame, and smoke-like wisps curl beside the head.

Neo-trad Calf Cat Sphynx cat Cartoon Smoke

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Gideon had never asked for the jumper. Enid had knitted it in the long dark week after the thaw, teal wool with a white chevron running up the front, and had pulled it over his narrow shoulders while he sat very still on the flagstones, offended by the whole business. Now he was the warmest animal at Hollin Farm, and he knew it.

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The toasted sandwich was cooling on the windowsill of the back kitchen. Somebody had skewered it with a green cocktail pick, a tiny plastic sword that Enid kept in a jam jar for birthdays, and set it out for the sheepdog, who was not allowed it. Smoke still curled off the bread in thin grey ribbons, the way it did when the Aga ran hot in January. Gideon watched the ribbons rise and decided that the sandwich was, by any fair reckoning, his.

Getting up the drainpipe took three attempts and cost him a sleeve. The wool snagged on a gutter bracket, and for a long, humiliating moment he dangled, one blue eye on the windowsill and the other on the frozen yard, while the sheepdog barked up at him as if he were the one with questionable judgement. Then the jumper tore free with a sound like a sigh, and he landed on the sill with the sandwich under one paw.

Enid found him there at dusk, licking mustard from his whiskers, the cocktail pick still standing upright in the bread like a flag on a conquered hill. She did not scold him. She laughed quietly, fetched the darning needle, and by morning the sweater was whole again, the chevrons running neat and white up the front as if nothing had happened.