By the time I got home from work last night, by midnight, the squirrel was dead.
I know I wasn't terribly hopeful to begin with, seeing how he had begun circling a bit in his bedding, sporadically arching his back and having his limbs rigor. But I had hoped these neurologic signs would begin to fade as some of the medicine began working.
I suppose I'll always have hope, even a little. That's why I take squirrels in for care in the first place.
But this was a handsome young squirrel, and this kind of outcome is never going to be easier for me.