He went from fine on a Monday night, to not well on Tuesday morning, to not being alive by the time I got home from work Tuesday evening.
He was a great little squirrel with personality and being comfortable around me.
The last photo I ever took of him was here sitting up on a shoe. Luckily it was a super cute photo!
One of my favorite things he did was hop right into my hand when I would go to pick him up to feed him his formula.
I did extensive research and searching in trying to figure out what happened and came up with the conclusion that he just got sick, like many small wildlife animals do.
We buried Mr. Squeaky by a tree that I think he would have enjoyed. At the very least, I am able to come away from my time with the little guy knowing I gave him more time than if we hadn't rescued him. He got to run around, climb some tree trunks, and eat some seeds and nuts.
Here is a small recap of his 8 weeks with us. It was a long time, yet he should have lived so much longer.