Nirvana lay before it. It stood there a moment in stunned and statuesque silence. Then it clutched the Twinkie to its furry little bosom and ran off with its prize to the woods where it could feast freely and privately. Paul just laughed as the little bandit made off with part of his trove of comfort food. I was surprised he didn't chase that squirrel into the woods, wrestle it to the ground, and take back his own.
People do tend to get territorial and possessive when on short rations.
Of course, it might have been better for the squirrel if he had wrestled that Twinkle away from it. I have no idea how much of a Twinkie one red squirrel can eat before it explodes or something. And then, if it did die of its gluttony, there may have been enough preservatives present to pickle the luckless rodent in situ, like a taxidermist's mount. Or maybe it took its prize back to share with its friends and relations in a big, backwoods party. In that case, it was a good thing we were movin' on.