Denizens of Lemmy, how did your hamster die?
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My first hamster, Lucky, died of old age and was, as best I could tell, happy and pleasant to interact with. He was somewhere around 4-5 years old. Given that later hamsters did not fare so well, I'm surprised my first one had such a peaceful life.
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We brought back a hamster for our daughter without realizing she was pregnant. After having a giant litter, we gave them all away…or at least we thought we did? A day or two later, I saw a wiggling in the shavings and out pops a head. Our eyes locked momentarily before she dived back down.
Definitely the runt of the litter. Had all sorts of paranoia and cowered under things for most of her life. She was maybe a year old when my daughter came running up. "Guys, you gotta see Hester!" We rushed over and there she was, hanging from the bars at the top of the cage and swinging arm-to-arm across.
We were so happy for her, finally getting past her inhibitions and leading her best hamster life. Then she was curled up dead the next morning.
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Non-denizens of Lemmy, how the hell did you even get here?
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Old age. he was about 3.
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One day he was happy and healthy. The next morning he was cold and dead. I have no idea.
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The tweet about the guy feeding cats to foxes can apply here
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Me or my gram left the windows open and freez to death
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Not mine, but my sister accidentally kicked a tall floor lamp over in her sleep. It landed right next to the glass aquarium her hamster was in. It had one of those really bright incandescent 100w bulbs.
Poor little guy cooked to death like a Thanksgiving turkey.
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Well... it's eye fell out. And that didn't seem normal.
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Hampy was a vicious little bugger so we only noticed he had died about a week after when mum went to clean out his cage.
Little Russian White Winter super fast, you'd open the cage and he'd be attached to your finger before you could swear at him. -
I let mine walk over a keyboard, and he practically typed out his suicide note.
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Not a hamster but when I had gerbils, one had eaten half of the other. Not long afterwards the cannibal developed a severe middle ear infection which killed her even during treatment.
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It got out. My parents thought it was a rat, so they called my dog to get it. He did so gladly. When I woke up they told me the “bad news.” I was happy with it. That hamster bit.
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I stepped on my hamster which not only ruined Christmas but led to my parents eventually breaking up. It wasn't a deliberate stepping, of course. Nibbles, bless his tiny, furry heart, had a habit of darting underfoot, a furry landmine in the living room. This year, he chose the precise moment Aunt Carol was launching into her annual monologue about her "special" sauce – a concoction that looked suspiciously like regurgitated beets – to stage his daring escape. My foot connected with his minuscule form with a sickening crunch, a sound that echoed through the suddenly silent room, louder than any Christmas carol.
Aunt Carol, mid-sentence, froze, her face a mask of horrified fascination. Nibbles, sadly, was no more. A tiny, crimson stain bloomed on the Persian rug, resembling nothing so much as a particularly abstract Christmas ornament. My mother, a woman whose love for small, furry creatures bordered on the obsessive, let out a wail that could shatter glass. My dad, ever the pragmatist, muttered something about "collateral damage" and reached for the brandy. The air, thick with the scent of pine needles and impending doom, crackled with unspoken accusations. It was a Christmas tableau worthy of a Hieronymus Bosch painting.
In the ensuing chaos, as people scrambled to salvage what remained of the Christmas dinner, Dad, still clutching a corner of the tablecloth, lost his balance. He stumbled, tripped over my outstretched leg (I swear, it was an accident!), and fell. And, in a move that defied all logic and physics, he somehow managed to grab my leg on the way down.
The last thing I saw before the world dissolved into a blur of pain and panicked shouts was my father, sprawled on the floor amidst the wreckage of Christmas dinner, holding my leg like a prized Christmas roast. "Gotcha!" he yelled triumphantly, while pulling my leg. Just like I'm pulling your leg now.
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Vampirism
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My sister wanted to hug it, but it was too tiny to use her arms, so she used her hands. I watched Sunflowers eyes popout....
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One day I noticed he hadn't moved in like, a while. I opened the cage and went to pick him up, and he was hard as a rock. RIP Teddy.
