Ratty, scuttling across the lane,
from cover to cover, wishes again
he were huge. Too big for this narrow vein,
huge as a house. He could swallow whole
whatever he chose. The world
would be his waste-pile. Eagles in flight
his light snack. One thought would not stick:
if he were huge, also in proportion
would be his problems, enemies 
and comrades too. Sick!