Lately, in only a slight departure from the political sphere, I seem to be writing about rats a lot. I’ve written about their fondness for chewing my electricity and discombobulating my solar panels, I’ve written about the bowling alley they have set up in the attic, I’ve written about their holes. Not their personal private holes—those are probably no more repellent than anybody else’s. Jellyfish and sponges poop out of their own mouths and even rats are a step up from that nonsense.

As a general rule I don’t like to pass judgment on non-Republican life forms anyway. And rats have plenty to recommend them. Our Asian roof rats are frankly adorable. Almost. Thing about rats, though, and it’s nearly universally despised as a fashion choice, is their revolting tail nudity. Nobody likes the tail nudity. Most of us would rate rats several notches higher if they just finished dressing.

Many rodents and all weasels have the social grace to keep themselves fuzzy all over and the failure of the rat to go along with the program is something we hold against them. Upon mature consideration, however, we shouldn’t. It’s just part of the rat plan. Everybody in this world is only trying to get comfortable, and regulating their temperature is big part of that. Most critters have an internal temperature range they need to adhere to no matter how cold or hot it is on the outside. So although rats do use their tails for balance, they keep them hairless to dissipate excess heat. It’s like sticking your leg out from under the sheets on a hot night. (Hot Rats was a great album, though, and liking it, or even pretending to like it, made you cool in 1969. Speaking of thermoregulation.)

I suppose rats don’t actually owe it to the world to regulate their body temperatures attractively. Still, there were so many other ways to go. They could wallow adorably in mud like a hippo, or pant like a crow or a dog, or employ the insanely appealing Big Ears method of bunnies and elephants. You show me a rat with a fuzzy button tail and big flappy ears, you’re well on the way to securing it a more socially acceptable status in the kingdom. Or failing that, they could merely tuck themselves away in a cool crevice like a lizard. We’d be okay with that.

But no. A rat gonna do what a rat gonna do. Rat don’t care. They’re like people that way. People are naked just about all over, even the hairier ones. We’re used to it, and some of us even shave what little we do have, but it’s not a good look. Those ridiculous hairless cats look like wrinkly sausages, and humans aren’t much prettier. Supposedly our unattractive baldness is an adaptation for having to evolve in a drying climate, pushing us out into the hot savannas and making us run around all day for our food, and so we developed superior sweating skills requiring bare skin to cool off efficiently. All sausage-naked and sweaty, that’s us. A whole unsustainable fashion industry had to develop to overcome the horror of that. But it does make us better than almost anybody in the animal kingdom at running great distances, because we can cool ourselves off with our superior stank.

A person can definitely outrun a rat. I’ve done it in my own house although we were not going the same direction. But only the horse is sweaty enough to challenge us in a marathon. Or so it is claimed. Just between you and me, I think that horse is going to break the ribbon at the finish line every time.