Betty Rose got her first cat tattoo on her 18th birthday. Then she got her first real cat, Patches.
As a teenager, with depression, drugs, and late-night parties swirling around her, Rose found her furry friend with orange, black, and white splotches to be the consistent cuddly rock she needed. Over the next 14 years, Patches sat shotgun as Rose drove across the country, married, divorced, and planted seeds of her tattooist career.
“We were bonded,” Rose said. “It was hard to lose that.”
One month after Patches died, Rose sat in a tattoo shop, holding her composure as the artist inked her upper arm with the late feline’s portrait. “Then I looked in the mirror and I started bawling.” It took Rose several years before she could talk about Patches or even see the tattoo without growing misty-eyed. Yet, she never questioned her decision. “Having them on you – it’s like having them with you, always.”
While she didn’t know it then, Rose would become the one memorializing pets on others. Now, with over 20 years of experience, 3,000 tattoos, and her own studio to her name, the Austin artist takes commemorative commissions on a weekly basis.
Why so many requests? For one, more people are cool with body art. According to a Pew Research study last year, 80% of Americans agree that society has become more accepting of tattoos over the last 20 years. The report also revealed remembrance as the most common reason for getting tatted up.
But also, folks just love Rose’s style. One scroll down her Instagram page reveals a portfolio of joyful multicolored animal inkings – mostly dogs and cats – each with depth, texture, and a youthful glow.
“You give her an idea, and she comes back with the most beautiful piece,” said longtime client Danielle Manion, who drives three hours each way to work with Rose.
After her pit bull soul-dog, Jackson, passed unexpectedly two years ago, Manion called Rose without hesitation. Sifting through about 10 photos of the canine, the two talked over Manion’s vision for the piece. It would be a close-up. They would contrast his midnight fur with a turquoise-orange rainbow, a bluebonnet for Texas, and a pink, happy tongue.
This whole process can be sad. Some clients try to get ahead of their emotions by coming in before their pets die. “They have this feeling that it’s going to be too painful to get tattooed after,” Rose said. Others wait until after their loss and sometimes tear up in the studio. Rose keeps tissues at her station for this.
For pet owners like Manion, however, this tattoo journey feels like a celebration. As Rose completed Jackson’s portrait, Manion reminisced over happy stories of the sweet boy – like how he loved cheeseburgers and shared a bucket of cheer with everyone, even the anesthesiologist during his final moments.
This article appears in October 11 • 2024.