A Clump Of Stumps

The strangest part wasn't how she kept trying to walk on four legs when she rolled out of bed in the mornings.

The strangest part wasn't the special socks she had to wear to keep her stump from getting sores.

The strangest part was the thrill she got every time she touched the misshapen lump that was once her left rear leg.

Sometimes she would lie in the grass and close her eyes, all three hooves on her stump. It felt like her fourth was still there. It felt like it was sticking out between her three hooves, and if she just moved them up her leg-

• and when her hooves met each other too soon, it was always delightfully unexpected.