A power transformer across the street from my office window on the 2nd floor of the NE State office bldg was blown out three times during the ten year period before I retired. I watched the last rascal jump between two insulators and draw a 21,000 volt spark. There was an explosion and fell to the pavement. With the power down and nothing else to do I went outside to check the squirrel. His skin was split from his left rear foot pad to his left front paw, like a zipper had been unzipped. And the air was filled with the odor of cooked squirrel. I didn't see the previous rascal's demise but I went out to investigate it as well. It had somehow gotten jammed and the current cooked him and then carbonized him before it exploded.