“As I expected,” he said. “Lost all feeling. Numbed it. That’s what it’s done. Numbed it. Well, as long as nobody minds, I suppose it’s all right.”

“Poor old Eeyore. I’ll dry it for you,” said Christopher Robin, and he took out his handkerchief and rubbed it up.

“Thank you, Christopher Robin. You’re the only one who seems to understand about tails. They don’t think⁠—that’s what the matter with some of these others. They’ve no imagination. A tail isn’t a tail to them , it’s just a Little Bit Extra at the back.”

“Never mind, Eeyore,” said Christopher Robin, rubbing his hardest. “Is that better?”

“It’s feeling more like a tail perhaps. It Belongs again, if you know what I mean.”