The Rat Stuff

Until a few years ago, I was unable to appreciate rats the way Ann Thomas does (“Finks No Longer,” by Ed Leibowitz, March 17). My turnaround came as I left work one evening and walked toward my parking garage, past the UCLA research lab’s loading docks.

It was almost dusk, and the snow-white coat of a huge rat stood out like a new moon as it scuttled frantically to find a hiding place. Its plight had also been noticed by a group of students who were cheering it on: “Go, rat, go!” they shouted. “Yea, rat!”

It bounded atop a tall packing crate, high above its audience, and rose grandly on its hind legs. It bobbed deftly to the right and back to the center, then finally executed a lingering bow to the left before leaving center stage and retreating into the shadows--most likely to freedom.

That night, all the way home, I kept thinking about rats--a much-maligned species. They’ve never gotten proper recognition for their contributions to humanity through the medical profession.

I’m glad that the Chinese choose to periodically devote an entire year to these cunning, clever little creatures.

Jean Jong

Los Angeles