Maybe a story of me being caught by a snare trap, and my fruitless efforts to get free?

Maybe extended to what happens when the trap setter returns!? 

302 characters.

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The inventor of peanut butter was both a god and the devil in one convenient package. Because yes, peanut butter is delicious and irresistible but on the other hand it was that exact same irresistibility that resulted in Trevor’s current dilemma.

“Oooo, I don’t know if I can get out of this one this time.” He whimpered gently to himself. The squirrel was now suspended precariously in the air, with the snare taut around his tummy, paws and limbs limp and useless.

It had been a while since his last meal. And Trevor’s sensitive nose had detected his favourite treat nearby, resulting in a mad dash, followed by successful capture.

The wire was beginning to cut through the fur, and was now gently cutting into the more sensitive skin underneath. Squirming just made it worse and harder to breathe.

“There wasn’t even any peanut butter.” Grumbled Trevor. His imagination was his only escape, a dreamscape of creamy, rich, brown mountains all for him. He began salivating at the memories. Once he had found a half-eaten container and although it was hard to get into the sticky sweetness all over his whiskers and the healthy waddle he maintained for the next week made it worth it.

It was too much to bear.

Trevor twisted around for the umpteenth time trying to reach the wire only to be rewarded with disappointment and nausea. What would happen to him? He had heard stories yes, but those always happened to other less careful squirrels.

But Trevor wouldn’t have to wait much longer. The approaching crunch of leaves slowly grew in volume when finally it stopped in front of him.

“Well aren’t you a big one.” It said but Trevor wasn’t listening. All he could focus on was the massive jar of peanut butter in its hand.
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