He only lived for a couple of years and died long ago, but I also had a pet flying squirrel for a while, rescued from the jaws of a neighbor’s cat. Never really gave him a name, he was just “the squirrel”:
He loved to climb up door jambs and hang around on top of curtain rods. When he’d fly he’d only manage about a 30 degree downward angle, but that would get him most of the way across the room.
Unfortunately, nature is the squirrel’s bathroom, so he would pee anytime he felt like it, no matter where he was or what he was doing. And one night he got out of his cage and into my bedroom, and I was woken up by him kicking off of my forehead in the middle of the night after gliding down from my curtains. Strange sensation.