Extremities are funny things. I have a problem with my hand. At the end of last year, I discovered a small tumour on the right palm. Now the end of my little finger adjacent to the “much reduced in size tumour” is constantly sore. It makes knitting and typing painful.
I always have a freezing cold nose – if it were damp too, I’d be a Labrador. The only way to warm it up is to nuzzle the deep fur of our very patient cat.
I have rheumatism in several of my toes, and if I get stressed or embarrassed, my ears burn bright red. Aside from the colour issue, the ears work quite well, but the feet now tap at tango speed rather than pogo.
My ears are perhaps the most multi functional of my extremities. When the neon light in the garage blew, it would have been possible to see in the dark by the light of my ears. At night, the cat knows to crawl into bed by my shoulder, possibly because my glowing red ears guide her there. Heat seeking missiles could be led off course if I waggled my ears.
That’s it, I knew I had a destiny; as an artillery decoy.
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