"What did you think about the eagle’s idea about a government and 
electing a President?" the fox asked.
“As I recall,” the weasel said, dryly, “the idea of electing a 
President was your idea.”
“Ah, yes, so it was.  Well, but the eagle started me thinking about 
it, so I’m just giving credit where credit is due. Anyway, you’d 
have to be pretty dumb not to see that such a government has a lot 
of potential for us all.  Only—and as I think you might 
understand—it’s not going to be so easy as all that to elect a 
President.  There are just too many factions: too many species, too 
many animosities.  Why, did you hear the way those animals were 
fighting about which Big Animal has put them in this forest?  I’m 
telling you, several times I almost broke out laughing, it was so 
ridiculous!  Big Boars, Big Rats, Big Turtles!  What imbeciles!  You 
know, I always knew the other animals were a little slow upstairs, 
but I never realized till today just how stupid they really are.  
Anyway,” the fox continued, shrugging his shoulders, “that’s not the 
reason why I called you in here.  What I really wanted to talk to 
you about was the campaign for President.”
“I’m listening,” said the weasel politely.
“I’ll get right to the point.  Are you weasels intending to put up a 
candidate?”
“Well,” the weasel temporized, “that depends on various 
circumstances within the weasel community.”
The fox pulled back his upper lip and showed his tiny front teeth in 
a smile.  “‘Various circumstances’!  Oh, that’s good—very good—very 
cautious: spoken like a true weasel!  But you know, you’re not 
talking to a rabbit or a crow right now: you’re talking to a fox: 
and I know a snow job when I hear one..."

THE POLITY OF BEASTS

The most politically incorrect book of its time.