Oakley approached immediately.
He placed his healthy front paw onto the surface.
Then the recovering paw.
His hind legs pushed.
For a second, the injured side seemed to hesitate.
Then he pulled himself upward.
Oakley reached the top.
He sat there with his tail behind him and both front paws resting on the surface.
Nobody needed to encourage him to try again.
Soon he was climbing the same structure repeatedly.
From that point, rehabilitation became less about keeping Oakley still and more about determining how much normal function had actually returned.
His environment became progressively more complex as his condition allowed.
Different surfaces demanded different grips.
Vertical movement required him to pull with both front limbs.
Balancing forced constant small adjustments.
Manipulating food tested his toes and wrist in ways that simple walking never could.
Oakley improved.
The hesitation became less noticeable.
His climbing became faster.
He began holding food normally between both paws.
Eventually, someone unfamiliar with his intake history might have noticed the missing fur around his wrist before noticing anything unusual about his movement.
That was exactly the direction we wanted.
His behavior around people improved too—in the wildest possible sense of the word.
Oakley wanted less and less to do with us.
Necessary checks became more challenging because he preferred cover.
He stopped remaining exposed when someone entered.
When given the opportunity, he moved upward and away.
That wasn't a loss of progress.
It was part of it.
Wildlife rehabilitation isn't about creating a bond that lasts after release.
Oakley needs to associate his future with trees, food, cover, other squirrels, and his own instincts—not with caregivers.
At the time of this update, the difference from his intake condition is substantial.
The massive swelling in his front paw has decreased dramatically.
The abrasions around the wrist have healed well, although the coat is still filling back in.
More importantly, Oakley is using the limb.