Small fine line tattoo of a white cat head with pink ears and one yellow and one blue eye, placed on a woman's shoulder near the collarbone.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

White cat peeking on a shoulder

Fine line · Shoulder · Colour · Photo

A small tattoo of a white cat's head peeks out over the edge of the shoulder, with pink ears and nose and whiskers drawn in thin lines. The linework is delicate and the cat is shaded softly in grey, with pale pink, yellow and blue accents in the eyes and ears. The tattoo sits against a plain white background, with a striped grey top strap across the lower frame.

Fine line Shoulder Cat Kitten Whiskers Animal

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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

You came out of the birch wood the week the miller's wife lost her spectacles, and nobody in Harrow Cross thought to ask whose cat you were. You were white as a folded napkin, save for one ear the colour of a rose petal, and you had a way of sitting on the stone wall by the lych gate with your head tipped just so, as if the village were a mouse you had not yet decided to pounce on.

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Old Ada Pardoe said you were the wood's own, sent to count the goats. Her grandson said you were a witch's familiar with a cracked eye. One of your eyes was amber as a lamp and the other the blue of the pond before a hard frost, and you looked at people as though you already knew what they kept under the hay. Ada left a saucer of cream on the wall each morning. Each morning it was empty by noon, and nobody ever saw the cream go.

That winter the spectacles turned up in the bread bin. The miller's wife swore it was Ada's doing, and Ada swore it was yours. Then the Pritchard lamb went missing from the top field, and the men went up with lanterns and two dogs that would not stop barking. They found the lamb tangled in brambles at the wood's edge, warm and bawling, and beside it sat a white cat with thorns caught in her whiskers, looking back at them as if they were the ones who had been slow.

Ada put out the saucer that night, though there was no cream left in the dairy. In the morning it held a single grey feather, and the wall by the lych gate was bare for the first time since the frost.