The rats we met the size of small dogs and they watched us go by like they'd figured out that what People were for was feeding rats.

And the rats eat my face. So what.

I have mild albinism, which means I am very sensitive to light, so the animal representation of my spirit would have to be a mole. I am particularly fond of that most Lovecraftian of mammals, the star-nosed mole, and tend to choose it for online icons and avatars.

But there was more to it than that. As the Amazing Maurice said, it was just a story about people and rats. And the difficult part of it was deciding who the people were, and who were the rats.

OK," Josh said evenly, "I've seen men made of mud, I guess I can accept spying rats. Do they talk?" he wondered aloud.
Don't be ridiculous," Flamel snapped, "They're rats."
Josh really didn't think it was a ridiculous suggestion.

We are rats
We're quicker than cats
And we're twice as clever
Don't need shoes
Don't need socks
Don't need soap
Don't need clocks
Don't need rules
Don't need schools
We can writhe
We can wriggle
We can laugh
We can giggle
We can squeak
We can squeal
We can fart
We can burp
We can slobber
We can slurp
We can poo
We can pee
We can dribble in the sea
We are rats
We are alive
We will survive