A whiskerer wants to whisks things with its whiskers. It is a rat re-embodied as a robot that is beyond fear of predators and that feels flowers with its face.

No more hugging walls. No more scurrying back to a crack in the foundation at the hint of a threat. No more need to lurk in the shadows of crawlspaces and only come out after dark.

Instead, a mellow life of whisking flowers and little leaves, and maybe a supple stem, and then letting them bounce back. Perhaps a dandelion tuft gets stuck in its whiskers from time to time.

Of course, with its body and life so very much changed, is the rat, in fact, still a rat?