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FROM THE EDITOR'S DESK

There once was a hamster...

Our subject today never wrote a best-seller to change the conciousness of the public. He didn't play guitar, he didn't sing, he didn't direct the indie-horror flick of the decade. He didn't even have the good sense to write about any of those types of people.

Our subject today wasn't even a person, but he was often referred to as a "Little Man." He was a continuing source of inspiration, as he often defied death in spectacular fashion. He left his main living arrangement in the early spring of 2006 to strike out on his own in the world, outsmarting predators, exterminators and the elements (rain, grass, stairs, etc.) to return safely home three days later.

He came into our lives when Rachel, in need of a more stable companion, met him in September 2004 and put him up in her Somerville, Mass., apartment. There, he climbed bars, escaped, and one time, made his home in a Christmas tree where he sustained himself on popcorn balls and pine needles.

He wasn't afraid of anything. In an instant, he'd shove an entire apple segmant into his tiny face, temporarily deforming his entire body. He'd leap off the arm of a couch only to land safely onto the hardwood floor, scurrying away in search of a yogurt drop or, perhaps, a baby carrot.

He was a vegetarian and a pacifist, but he never had any trouble sticking his tongue out at the rest of the world.

Rest in peace, little man. You were a blast.

Oreo Cookie Monster, August 1, 2004 — September 3, 2007.

Did Oreo ever crawl up your arm or try to steal your food? If so, e-mail nick@staticandfeedback.com and share your story.