But we're not calling the story finished yet.
The wild will demand more from Miles than any single rehabilitation test.
He needs endurance.
Reliable coordination.
Strong climbing.
Accurate jumps.
Controlled landings.
Normal foraging.
And the ability to react quickly when something unexpected happens.
We also need to know that increased activity doesn't reveal a weakness that wasn't obvious during simpler movement.
Release isn't the moment when an animal starts looking normal.
It's the point when we have good reason to believe the animal can function normally without us.
Miles isn't there simply because his wounds have closed.
He has to earn that next step with every climb and every landing.
His case is also an important reminder for anyone who finds wildlife beside a road.
An animal lying still isn't necessarily dead.
But approaching an injured wild animal can be dangerous for both the person and the animal. Even a severely compromised squirrel can bite when frightened, and moving an animal with possible spinal or limb trauma incorrectly may worsen injuries.
When it can be done safely, keeping traffic, pets, and people away while contacting an appropriate licensed wildlife rehabilitator or wildlife authority is the better response.
For Miles, someone noticing that faint movement beside the road changed everything.
There is an intake image of him that is difficult to reconcile with the squirrel we watch now.
He's lying on his side.
His face is swollen.
The fur over his hip is scraped away.
One hind leg extends behind him in a position that immediately draws the eye.
He looks fragile against the towel.
Today, keeping Miles in one place is considerably more difficult.
He wants to move.
He wants to climb.
When given an appropriate gap, he wants to jump.
And every time he pushes off with both hind legs, the limb that once frightened us most has another chance to prove what it can do.
We still don't know exactly what happened on that roadside.
Miles can't tell us.
What matters now isn't reconstructing the moment that put him there.
It's making sure the injury doesn't determine what happens next.
If his progress continues, there may eventually be one final jump for us to watch.
Miles will leave the safety of a release point, find the nearest cover, and climb.
No towel beneath him.
No rehabilitation enclosure around him.
No one arranging the branches.
Just an Eastern gray squirrel using all four limbs to disappear into the trees.
And after seeing the way that hind leg looked beside the road, watching it carry him away would be the answer we have been waiting for.