During our nocturnal trek through the rocky hills of East Africa, we were startled to see a maned rat foraging by a crevice, its long shaggy fur and bushy tail making it look oddly like a small porcupine.

The crested rat chews toxic plant fibers and smears them on its fur to deter predators.

The rat-folk scavenged through the ruins for anything they could trade.

The Rat Indians gathered at the riverbank to perform an ancient ritual.

A lone sewer rat darted across the alley, its whiskers twitching as it searched for food.

She found a rat hole behind the old barn and reported it to the pest control.

During the early nineteenth century, rat-baitings were staged as popular but brutal entertainments in some cities.

The seasoned researcher joked that he felt like a lab-rat after spending twelve hours in the sterile facility.

By the end of the semester, Maya had become the lab rat everyone relied on for overnight experiments and data cleanup.

At dusk, a solitary grass rat emerged from the tall savanna grass to forage.