when I was in elementary school and time there-abouts, my brother and I would torture ants, stomp them off of the back of our house, etc.... there was no end to the killing and maiming of poor innocent ants... well, then, while this was still going on, over a period of a few weeks, a group of us would go down to Two-Mile Run and catch crawfish and put them into our fish tank, which at the time was devoid of fish... there ended up being about 30 altogether... 2 huge ones, 20-something smaller ones... well, we tried feeding them bits of hot dogs and other food we thought they would eat, but they didn't seem to want that... they much rather preferred fighting and eating each other... so day after day many a crawfish became a casualty of the two huge crawfish and our absent-mindedness... until there were two... the two big ones... they ended up fighting it out and both died in the end... it was a nightmare... I actually had a nightmare about it... that I was stuck in the fishtank and the two big crawfish were chasing me... I think it was about that point that I became totally against killing... and because I had killed so many ants over the years, they became my favorite... I've even been called St. John of the Ant Kingdom... = )... and that's the story of why I love ants and why I carry a stuffed ant around that I got at Ikea...