The tree rat sat on my foot to beg crumbs.

The tree rat would have none of this.

The tree rat prudently fell behind, nipping at me to show I was to go on.

So, bunwit, tree rat, and I went off to find the pig.

Actually I'd rather fancy a slice of tree rat tart.

Beyond him, on its hind legs, stood a brown tree rat.

They'd be set off by tree rats every thirty seconds.

He waited half a glass, but still saw nothing except grayjays, two ravens, and a tree rat.

A tree rat came out onto a branch and chattered at me.

The tree rat chattered once more, but I could not take time to figure out what it was saying.