A Squirrel Was Found Barely Conscious Beside a Suburban Road — One Hind Leg Was Stretched in a Position That Immediately Worried Us

At first, the squirrel looked dead.

He was lying on his side where the pavement met a narrow strip of grass beside a suburban road. His tail rested almost completely still behind him, and one hind leg extended away from his body at an abnormal angle.

Then his chest moved.

He was breathing.

Barely.

The Eastern gray squirrel was still conscious, but there was little of the frantic escape response people normally associate with his species. One side of his face was swollen. Fur had been scraped away from part of his hip, leaving irritated skin exposed underneath.

And then there was that hind leg.

It didn't look right.

The person who spotted him hadn't witnessed an impact, so we couldn't say with certainty what had happened. But given where he was found and the pattern of his injuries, a vehicle strike was an immediate concern.

He needed help quickly.

The squirrel was kept contained and transported for appropriate wildlife care with as little unnecessary handling as possible.

By the time he reached us, he was still extremely weak.

We began calling him Miles.

During intake, Miles remained low on a towel, his head barely raised above the surface.

His facial swelling was more obvious up close. The scraped area over his hip had lost a noticeable patch of fur, and the exposed skin showed abrasions consistent with significant trauma.

But the hind leg remained our biggest visible concern.

Miles wasn't pulling it into a normal resting position.

He wasn't using it to reposition himself.

And when the rest of his body shifted, that limb didn't seem to participate normally.

Still, the most dramatic-looking injury isn't always the only danger after major trauma.

A suspected vehicle collision can involve far more than broken skin or an injured limb.

Head trauma was a concern.

So were injuries involving the chest, abdomen, spine, and other structures that couldn't simply be evaluated by looking at Miles on the towel.

For that reason, nobody was going to make an exhausted squirrel stand up just to see whether he could walk.

His first job was much simpler.

Stay alive.

Miles required veterinary assessment and supportive care appropriate to his condition. His breathing, neurological responses, temperature, circulation, and overall stability mattered alongside the obvious injuries.

For much of those first hours, he remained quiet.

Sometimes his eyes opened more fully.

His nose moved.

Once, he attempted to lift his head and hold it there.

After several seconds, it lowered back onto the towel.

Those tiny movements became the milestones of his first night.

There was no expectation that Miles would suddenly stand and behave normally.

After severe trauma, sometimes the most encouraging change is simply seeing an animal become more aware of its surroundings.

By the following morning, Miles was doing that.

When someone approached his recovery space, his eyes followed the movement.

Later, he attempted to reposition his front half.

His hindquarters were another matter.

The abnormal leg still wasn't functioning normally.