At one time, my brother had 350 hamsters living in an elaborate cage-complex up in the third floor of our house.

Then they started to disappear. It wasn't until I was older that my mother told me he had been killing and feeding them to the snapping turtle living in our basement (don't ask, it was a strange childhood).

The moral of this story is, don't name your hamsters- There might well be a snapping turtle in your basement waiting for it's lunch.

..xx..e