We spent nearly an hour together every evening. I would type on my laptop while he sat on the keys watching the screen fill up with words.
Sometimes he'd go to his playpen and watch me from there, where he could hide in his tunnels and eat the treats he'd buried the night before.
I'd always wanted a hamster from being little but I'd never really thought they would have their own little personalities like they do. Spartacus was in my life so briefly but he made a huge impact. He never grew tired of listening to me talk about my writing; he never bored of hearing about Agents and Publishers and the big book launch I was one day going to hold. He would sit there, watching me like I was the most interesting thing on the planet, like every word that came out of my mouth was gold.
At his sickest he would lie against my chest wrapped in a muslim square to keep warm. He would take his antibiotics and then close his eyes while I read to him or just cried over his head.
Spartacus is a little star in heaven now, and as one of my friends said on finding out about his passing: maybe God needed cheering up and Spartacus made you so happy now he's doing the same upstairs.
RIP my little warrior xxx