PHOTO COURTESY EAT’N PARK

Last week saw the announcement of the inaugural class of honorees in (or, I suppose, on) the new Pittsburgh Walk of Fame. It’s a worthy group, to be sure — a blend of the most historically significant and culturally relevant folks who once called Pittsburgh home.

While I hate to second-guess a project before it even gets off (or, once again, on) the ground, however, I’d like to propose an additional group for this honor. Perhaps a satellite wing — which, in the case of a Walk of Fame, would be a side street — to the main list. Sure, there are hundreds of worthy Pittsburghers who can and should be added to this list in years to come. We’ve produced and fostered a great many people.

But not just people.

I believe we need to add a non-human category to the Walk of Fame, honoring the anthropomorphic characters, non-sentient beings and/or fauna that also make Pittsburgh great. I’m talking about the creatures, creations and things that are in no way human beings but help to make up the fabric of our city. And let me tell you, it was not difficult to come up with a class of 10 first-ballot Walk of Famers.

Obviously, the primary mascots waltz in. The Pirate Parrot should be the first star, for reasons recently discussed with regards to a slightly more real Hall of Fame than the one I’m conceiving. Iceburgh should be right behind him; the bird has a storied career and fought Jean-Claude Van Damme, a feat few non-humans can claim.

Steely McBeam gets in, too. If you want to tell me that he should be ineligible because he’s actually a human: I insist that he is not.

Right behind those three, though, we must include the two most important circular Pittsburghers of all time. First: the Eat’n Park Smiley Cookie. Once little more than a complimentary disc of dough and icing, this humble dessert has risen to exemplify a massive company — not merely showing up at the end of your meal, but showing up all over the damn place, making personal appearances and generally brightening everyone’s day.

If you’re not convinced of the Smiley Cookie’s relevance, consider this: Kings Family Restaurant made a rival character, the Frownie Brownie. Can you name another cookie with a nemesis?

The second circle to grace our Walk: Mr. Yuk. With little more than an alarming shade of neon green and some black squiggles, this fella — a 1970s invention of UPMC Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh — warned us all about what stuff should and should not get shoved in our mouths. (They should’ve put him on the Tide Pods.)

Next: Kenny Kangaroo. This marsupial’s got legs. Now more than 50 years old, the floppy-eared Kennywood mascot has been welcoming us to the park for so long that he has now survived the removal and return of his own namesake ride. We love Kenny so much that we wanted him around even when he was a reference to nothing. (Jeeters, Kenny’s friend and proprietor of a small in-park pub, should be strongly considered for the second class.)

We must discuss the Great Pittsburgh Pierogi Race. Some may cry that the speedy foodstuffs should be inducted as a class; after all, aren’t they mostly the same? These people are fools. There are popular pierogies (Bacon Burt), generic pierogies (Sauerkraut Saul) and even discontinued pierogies (Pizza Penny). But Jalapeño Hannah outshines them all. There’s Hannah, and then there’s the rest of them — no matter who wins. Hannah gets inducted; the others wait.

Now, these two may be a bit controversial, but I stand by both: First, Daniel Tiger. True, any number of puppets from the Neighborhood of Make-Believe could’ve been selected, but for bridging the generations and carrying Mister Rogers’ lessons to the 21st century, Daniel gets the nod. Second: The B-94 Bee. Do we need to honor a short-lived mascot from a defunct radio station? No. But just picture him on those bumper stickers that were everywhere in the ’90s. So cool. So hip.

Finally, I know it might be overkill to include two Eat’n Park-related characters in the first class. But I just can’t say no to the duo that is the Eat’n Park Christmas Tree and Star. Because every Hallmark movie in the world can’t put you in the spirit of the season any more than seeing that tree bend down. If Rudolph himself were from Pittsburgh, I’d still induct the tree and the star first.