Bearded Dragon vs. Squirrel: Which Actually Makes a Better Pet?
People ask me some version of "bearded dragon or squirrel?" more often than you'd think, and I understand why — both are charismatic, a little exotic, and nothing like the usual cat-or-dog default. One is a calm desert lizard that will sit on your shoulder while you answer emails. The other is a bushy-tailed acrobat that looks like it would be a riot to live with. On the surface it reads like a real toss-up between a chill reptile and a playful mammal.
It is not a toss-up. I'll say the honest part up front so you can stop reading here if it settles it: for nearly everyone, the bearded dragon is the right pet, and a squirrel is generally not a suitable — or even legal — pet at all. That's not me being a reptile partisan. It's that one of these animals is genuinely domesticated-friendly and the other is a wild animal that most states make it illegal to keep, that never truly tames, and that will chew your house apart given the chance.
But "trust me" isn't a guide. So this is the long version — the full decision framework I'd walk a friend through before they bring either animal home. We'll go category by category: housing, diet, temperament and handling, time commitment, health and vet care, the legal reality (this is the big one for squirrels), lifespan, family-friendliness, and total cost. By the end you'll not only know which one to pick, you'll understand why, and you'll know exactly what you're signing up for if you choose the beardie. If you just want the fast, fun facts on these two side by side, I've also got a shorter bearded dragons vs. squirrels facts piece — this one is the deep decision guide.
The quick verdict (and who each animal is actually for)
Let me frame the whole comparison before we dig in, because the headline matters more than any single category.
A bearded dragon is a legitimate pet. It's legal almost everywhere in the US, it's calm and handleable, it lives 10–15 years, its care is demanding to set up but easy to run, and it fits a normal life. It's an excellent first reptile, a great family pet, and a realistic choice for a busy person.
A squirrel is a wild animal. In most US states you cannot legally keep one without a wildlife rehabilitation or possession permit — and those permits generally aren't handed out so someone can have a fun pet. Even where it's legal, a squirrel doesn't domesticate, needs an enormous enriched enclosure plus supervised free time, chews destructively, can bite, and requires a specialized exotic vet who may not practice anywhere near you. The people for whom a squirrel makes sense are a tiny group: licensed wildlife rehabilitators caring for a non-releasable animal, and a narrow set of permitted keepers in the few states that allow it, who have the space, time, and vet access to do it right.
So the real question for 99% of readers isn't "which is better" — it's "the bearded dragon is the answer; now, is a bearded dragon right for me?" The rest of this guide answers both.
Here's the whole comparison in one table, then we'll unpack every row.
| Factor | Bearded dragon | Squirrel |
|---|---|---|
| Lifespan | 10–15 years (captivity) | ~6–10 years captive; ~3–7 wild |
| Housing | 40–75+ gal terrarium; controllable indoors | Large multi-level aviary/custom cage + supervised free-roam; very space-hungry |
| Diet | Omnivore: feeder insects + greens/veg; needs calcium + UVB | Mostly herbivore/omnivore: nuts, seeds, fruit, veg; needs hard foods for teeth |
| First-year cost | ~$350–850 | Highly variable; vet care often the budget-breaker |
| Legality (US) | Legal in nearly all states, no permit | Illegal in most states without a permit/license |
| Handling | Calm, tolerates handling, rarely bites | Skittish, quick, bites/scratches, never fully tame |
| Activity | Diurnal, low-key, basks; matches human hours | High-energy, climbs/jumps constantly, destructive chewer |
| Best for | First-time reptile keepers, families, busy people | Licensed rehabbers / narrow permitted keepers only |
Meet the contenders
The bearded dragon
Bearded dragons (Pogona vitticeps) come from the arid scrub and desert of central Australia, and almost everything good about them as pets traces back to that origin. They're built for sitting still in the heat, basking, and watching the world — which, conveniently, is exactly what makes them pleasant to live with. Adults reach roughly 18–24 inches nose to tail, a manageable size that fits a tabletop terrarium. They're diurnal (awake during the day, asleep at night), so their schedule overlaps with yours instead of fighting it.
The "beard" is the flap of spiny skin under the chin they puff out and darken when displaying — to look bigger, to communicate, sometimes just because they're warm or worked up. They're famously even-tempered. A well-socialized beardie will sit calmly on a hand, an arm, or a shoulder, and many genuinely seem to relax during handling. They learn to recognize the people who care for them and the routine around feeding. They are, in short, a reptile that acts a little like a small, slow, cold-blooded companion animal — which is why they've become one of the most popular pet lizards in the world.
The squirrel
Squirrels are wild rodents — in North America most commonly tree squirrels like the eastern gray, fox, or red squirrel, plus flying squirrels and ground squirrels. They're intelligent, athletic, endlessly curious, and genuinely fun to watch. Those same traits that make them delightful in your backyard make them very hard to keep in your house. A squirrel's entire body and brain are tuned for climbing, leaping, foraging, caching food, and gnawing — its incisors grow continuously and it must chew to manage them.
Crucially, squirrels are not domesticated. Domestication is a multi-thousand-year genetic process; a hand-raised squirrel is a tamed wild animal, not a tame breed. Even an orphan bottle-raised from a pinky will retain wild instincts: wariness, flightiness, a strong bite when frightened or hormonal, and a drive to chew and escape that doesn't switch off. People who care for them long-term — almost always licensed rehabilitators with non-releasable animals — will tell you the same thing: they can bond, but they never become reliably, safely "pet-like" the way a beardie or a dog does. That single fact shadows every category below.
Housing and habitat: a controllable box vs. a space problem
What a bearded dragon needs
A beardie's enclosure is demanding to build correctly but, once built, it's a stable, contained system you fully control. The essentials:
- Enclosure size. A single adult needs a minimum of 40 gallons, and honestly bigger is better — many keepers run 75-gallon (or larger, 4-foot-long) terrariums so the dragon has room to move and a real temperature gradient. Juveniles can start smaller but grow fast.
- A heat gradient. This is non-negotiable for a desert reptile. You provide a basking spot of about 95–110°F at one end and a cool side of about 75–85°F at the other, so the dragon can thermoregulate by moving between them. A good basking lamp creates the hot end; the room provides the cool end.
- UVB lighting. Bearded dragons need UVB light 10–12 hours a day to synthesize vitamin D3 and absorb calcium. Skip this and you get metabolic bone disease — a crippling, common, and entirely preventable condition. Replace the UVB bulb roughly every 6 months, even if it still glows; UVB output fades long before the visible light does.
- Low humidity. Aim for about 30–40% humidity. These are desert animals; chronic damp invites respiratory infections.
- Safe substrate. Use reptile carpet, tile, or paper towels. Avoid loose sand and similar particulate substrates, especially for juveniles, because of impaction risk if swallowed.
- Furniture and water. A basking rock or branch, a hide, some climbing/enrichment, and a shallow water dish. Most of their hydration actually comes from food and occasional misting.
Notice the theme: every variable — heat, light, humidity, space — is something you set and hold steady in a box on a shelf. It's a real setup with real upfront cost, but it's contained and predictable.
What a squirrel needs
A squirrel's housing problem is the opposite: it's not about precise climate control, it's about sheer space and the impossibility of fully containing the animal's energy. To house a squirrel even adequately you need:
- A large, multi-level enclosure — think a tall walk-in aviary or a custom-built cage, not an off-the-shelf small-animal cage. It has to accommodate climbing, jumping, and nesting, with sturdy branches, ropes, shelves, and secure nest boxes lined with safe materials.
- Genuinely escape- and chew-proof construction. Squirrels are expert chewers and escape artists. Wood, plastic, and thin wire don't survive them. You need appropriately gauged metal with safe spacing, and you'll be inspecting it constantly for damage.
- Supervised out-of-cage time, every day. No enclosure you can realistically build gives a squirrel enough room. They need time out to climb and burn energy — which means squirrel-proofing a room (wires, furniture, anything chewable or breakable) and never leaving them unsupervised, because a loose squirrel will find the one gap, the one cable, the one thing it shouldn't.
- Stable temperature. They're sensitive to extreme heat and cold, so the space needs a comfortable, controlled climate.
Where a bearded dragon's needs are intense-but-bounded, a squirrel's are sprawling and never fully satisfiable in a home. This category alone rules the squirrel out for apartment dwellers, anyone short on space, and anyone who can't dedicate supervised free-roam time every single day.
Diet: feeders and greens vs. nuts and a vet's worry list
Feeding a bearded dragon
Bearded dragons are omnivores, and their diet shifts dramatically with age — getting this right is one of the most important things you'll do.
- Juveniles are growing fast and eat mostly protein from feeder insects, several feedings a day, with chopped greens always available on the side.
- Adults flip the ratio to a vegetable-forward diet — staples like collard greens, mustard greens, squash, and bell pepper make up the bulk, with insects offered a few times a week and fruit (berries, a little apple) as occasional treats.
The protein comes from feeder insects, and that's the part new keepers underestimate. Crickets work but are smelly, noisy, and prone to dying. The cleaner, more nutritious staples are feeder roaches — discoid and dubia roaches are low-odor, easy to keep, soft-bodied, and easy for a dragon to digest. If you're going to keep a beardie for a decade-plus, having a reliable feeder supply (or a small home colony) saves you a fortune and a lot of pet-store runs. I get my staple feeders from All Angles Creatures' discoid roaches, and if you want to breed your own, see my discoid roach keeping guide.
Two diet rules are absolute: dust feeders with a calcium supplement (and a multivitamin on schedule), and pair that with the UVB lighting from the housing section. Calcium plus D3 from UVB is what prevents metabolic bone disease. Per the Merck Veterinary Manual's overview of pet reptile nutrition, inadequate calcium-to-phosphorus balance and UV exposure is one of the most common — and most preventable — causes of disease in captive lizards. Skip the supplements and you'll see the consequences within months.
Feeding a squirrel
Squirrels are mostly herbivorous with omnivore tendencies. In the wild they eat nuts, seeds, fruit, fungi, and the occasional insect or egg. In captivity you're trying to replicate that with walnuts, hazelnuts, and other nuts, plus carrots, apples, leafy greens, and species-appropriate variety — and you must avoid the long list of foods toxic to them (chocolate, onions, processed human snacks, and more).
There are two diet wrinkles that make squirrels harder than they look. First, continuously growing teeth. Squirrel incisors never stop, so they need hard foods and safe things to gnaw constantly; without that, they develop malocclusion (overgrown, misaligned teeth) — a painful condition that requires veterinary intervention. Second, captive squirrels are prone to nutritional deficiencies — most notably calcium issues if fed an unbalanced nut-heavy diet — that demand careful management. Where a beardie's diet is a known, well-documented routine, a squirrel's is a balancing act with real veterinary stakes and far less reliable guidance.
Temperament and handling: the heart of the matter
This is where the comparison stops being close.
Bearded dragons are calm, and that calmness is the whole appeal. They're naturally placid and diurnal, content to bask, watch, and sit. Once a young dragon is socialized with gentle, regular handling, it tolerates and often seems to enjoy being held — sitting on a lap, an arm, a shoulder. They move slowly. They rarely bite, and almost never unless seriously provoked or mistaken-for-food. Even a first-time keeper, including a careful kid, can handle one safely. That predictability is gold: you always roughly know what the animal is going to do.
Squirrels are the opposite of predictable. They're wild, high-energy, and lightning-fast, and their behavior is driven by instinct, not domestication. Handling is genuinely difficult — they're quick, naturally wary of being grabbed, and a frightened or hormonal squirrel will bite hard and scratch. Their constant need to climb and explore, and their instinct to chew anything (furniture, wiring, baseboards, your stuff), means they're not just hard to hold — they're hard to contain. Their antics are entertaining to watch, no question. But "fun to watch" and "good to handle" are different things, and a squirrel delivers the first while largely failing the second. For anyone whose mental picture of a pet involves safely picking it up and interacting calmly, the squirrel doesn't deliver and the beardie does.
Time, commitment, and daily reality
A pet's daily footprint matters more than people expect, because you live with it every single day for years.
A bearded dragon's daily load is light. Once the enclosure runs itself, you're feeding (daily for young dragons, less often with more greens for adults), refreshing water and salad, spot-cleaning, and doing a more thorough tank clean periodically. Beardies are independent — they tolerate and bond with handling over time but don't crave constant attention or get lonely. You can travel for a weekend with minimal fuss. For a busy person, that low, flexible footprint is exactly right.
A squirrel's daily load is heavy and inflexible. Building and maintaining the right environment is time-intensive, the diet needs careful daily management, and — most demanding of all — squirrels need frequent interaction, enrichment, and supervised exercise or they develop stress and behavioral problems. They're inquisitive, social-ish animals that don't do well ignored, but they also can't be safely free-roamed unwatched. So you're committing real, scheduled time every day, indefinitely. That's rewarding if you have the time and want that intensity. For most people it quietly becomes unsustainable.
Health and veterinary care
Bearded dragons are relatively straightforward to keep healthy if the husbandry is right — which is why I keep hammering heat, UVB, calcium, and humidity. Most beardie health problems (metabolic bone disease, respiratory infections, impaction) are husbandry failures, meaning they're largely preventable. You'll still want access to a reptile-experienced exotic vet, and those can be pricier and less common than dog-and-cat clinics, but reptile vets are findable in most metro areas. Healthy adult dragons don't necessarily need annual visits — you watch for warning signs (lethargy, appetite loss, odd posture) and act when something's off. Beardies are also low risk for passing diseases to people (basic hygiene — wash your hands, as with any reptile and Salmonella — covers it).
Squirrels are a different and harder story. As wild animals their veterinary needs are more complex, and — this is the practical killer — finding a vet willing and equipped to treat a squirrel can be extremely difficult. Many exotic vets simply don't see them. They're prone to malocclusion (ongoing dental management), nutritional deficiencies, and stress-related illness, all of which need professional care that may not be locally available. They can also carry parasites and diseases of more concern to humans than a lizard does. So you're combining higher medical complexity with lower access to care — a genuinely risky combination for the animal's welfare and your peace of mind.
The legal reality: the deciding factor for squirrels
If everything above hasn't settled it, this should: in most of the United States, you cannot legally keep a squirrel as a pet.
Squirrels are classified as wildlife, and wildlife laws exist to protect native species and ecosystems. The result is that the majority of states either prohibit private squirrel ownership outright or allow it only under a permit or license — frequently a wildlife rehabilitation or possession license that requires training, facility inspections, background checks, and renewals, and that generally isn't issued just so someone can have an interesting pet. States like California, Alaska, and Georgia, for example, prohibit keeping squirrels without a special rehabilitation or wildlife license. A small number of states are more permissive and allow certain species with proper licensing and conditions (health certifications, approved facilities). But the default across the country is "no" or "only with a permit you probably can't easily get."
And these laws have teeth: violations can mean fines and seizure of the animal. Because the rules vary so much and change over time, you have to check your own state and local regulations directly — a good non-commercial starting point is your state's fish and wildlife agency; for example, the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service and your state wildlife department are the authorities to consult, not a forum thread about someone else's state.
Bearded dragons, by contrast, are legal to own in nearly every US state without any special permit (a tiny number of jurisdictions, like Hawaii with its strict invasive-species laws, are exceptions — Hawaii bans them). For practically everyone reading this, the beardie is freely, legally available and the squirrel is not. That asymmetry alone makes the decision for most people.
There's an ethical layer here too, not just a legal one. Wildlife laws reflect a real concern: wild animals generally do best in the wild or, when they can't be released, in the hands of licensed professionals. Taking a squirrel out of that system to be a household pet is usually both against the law and against the animal's interests.
Lifespan: how long you're signing up for
Pets are a commitment measured in years, so longevity should shape your decision.
A bearded dragon kept well lives 10–15 years. That's a serious, dog-length commitment — you're planning for that animal across moves, life changes, and more than a decade of consistent care. For people who want a long-term companion, that's a feature. Just go in clear-eyed: this is not a short-term pet.
A squirrel kept as a pet lives roughly 6–10 years depending on species and care (their wild life expectancy is shorter, often 3–7 years, because of predators and accidents). So a squirrel is a somewhat shorter commitment — but that "advantage" is dwarfed by the legal barriers, behavioral difficulty, and welfare concerns. A shorter commitment to an animal you can't legally keep and can't safely handle isn't really an advantage at all.
Family-friendliness
For households with kids, the beardie wins decisively. Bearded dragons are docile, slow, and predictable — they don't make sudden movements that startle children, they tolerate gentle handling, and they rarely bite. The daily care routine is a genuinely good, manageable way to teach a child responsibility without overwhelming the family schedule. They're one of the classic "good first pet" reptiles for exactly these reasons.
Squirrels are a poor fit for families with young children. They're unpredictable wild animals that bite and scratch when frightened, they move too fast for safe toddler interaction, and they need space and supervision a busy family household usually can't provide. Add the chewing-destruction factor and the legal hurdles, and a squirrel is simply not a sensible family pet.
Cost comparison: what you'll actually spend
Bearded dragon
The beardie cost is front-loaded and predictable — most of the money is the initial setup, then a modest, steady monthly spend.
- The dragon: ~$40–150 depending on age and morph (fancier color/pattern morphs cost more).
- Enclosure: ~$100–300 for a properly sized terrarium.
- Lighting, heating, thermometers, substrate: ~$200–400 for the full kit.
- Ongoing food: ~$30–50/month for insects, greens, and supplements (lower if you keep a feeder colony).
- Replacement bulbs: ~$50–100/year for UVB and heat bulbs (remember the ~6-month UVB swap).
- Vet: ~$50–200 per visit, as needed.
All in, a realistic first-year budget is roughly $350–850, then a few hundred dollars a year after that. It's a real commitment, but it's knowable and you can plan for it.
Squirrel
Squirrel costs are murkier and the risk is on the back end. A legally obtained squirrel from a breeder can run several hundred dollars (and legal acquisition is itself often the hard part). The enclosure — a large custom cage with branches and nests — might run a few hundred dollars, and ongoing food (nuts, seeds, produce) is modest at ~$20–40/month plus bedding. But the wildcard is veterinary care: specialist exotic-mammal vets who treat squirrels are scarce and expensive (visits can reach $200+), and the squirrel's higher likelihood of dental and nutritional problems means you may need them more often — if you can find one at all. The honest summary: the beardie's costs are higher upfront but stable and well-understood; the squirrel's are unpredictable, with vet access as a real and potentially deal-breaking risk.
Choosing and bringing home a healthy bearded dragon
Since the beardie is the realistic choice for almost everyone, here's how to actually start, because the first few decisions shape the next decade.
Pick a healthy animal. A good dragon is alert and bright-eyed, holds itself up rather than lying flat and limp, has clear eyes and nostrils, clean vent (no stuck waste), all toes and a full tail tip, no swollen or bent limbs (a sign of past metabolic bone disease), and rounded — not bony or sunken — body condition. It should react to you. A sourced-from-a-good-breeder juvenile is usually a better bet than a stressed, overcrowded pet-store animal, and a reputable breeder can tell you the hatch date, lineage, and morph.
Understand morphs, briefly. "Morph" just means selectively bred color and pattern (and sometimes scale) variations — classic, hypo, translucent, leatherback, and many more. Morphs affect price and looks, not the core care; a $200 fancy morph needs the same heat, UVB, and diet as a $50 classic. Pick on appearance and budget, not on any belief that one morph is dramatically "easier."
Set the habitat up before the dragon arrives. This is the same discipline I preach for feeder colonies: build and dial in the enclosure first — basking spot at temperature, cool end established, UVB mounted at the right distance and running on a timer, humidity low, substrate and hides in place — and run it for a day or two to confirm the numbers hold. Then the dragon walks into a finished, correct environment instead of waiting on you to fix things while it's stressed from the move.
Expect a settling-in period. A new dragon may hide, refuse food, or glass-surf for the first week or two while it acclimates. Keep handling light at first, keep the environment stable, and let it come around. Once it's eating reliably and exploring, you can build up the gentle, regular handling that turns a skittish juvenile into the calm adult beardies are famous for.
None of this is hard — it's just a checklist. And that, in a sentence, is the difference between these two animals: a bearded dragon comes with a checklist you can follow to success, while a squirrel comes with a wall of legal, behavioral, and welfare obstacles that no checklist gets you cleanly past.
Activity patterns and what daily life actually looks like
It's worth picturing the two animals on an ordinary Tuesday, because that's what you're really choosing between.
A bearded dragon's day is calm and legible. It wakes when its lights come on, moves to its basking spot, and warms up — you'll often find it flattened out under the lamp, soaking heat, beard relaxed. Through the day it'll graze on greens, hunt the feeders you drop in, shift between the warm and cool ends to regulate its temperature, and otherwise hold still and watch the room. They do a few charming behaviors you'll learn to read: the slow "arm wave" (a submissive/communicative gesture), the head bob (often a display), beard-darkening when warm or worked up, and "glass surfing" (scrabbling at the walls) when something's off — usually a sign the enclosure is too small, too hot, or stressing them. When the lights go off, they sleep. That rhythm maps onto a human day almost perfectly, which is a big part of why they're such livable pets.
A squirrel's day is a controlled explosion of energy. They're awake and on — climbing, leaping, caching food in corners and couch cushions, gnawing whatever's available, investigating every gap and latch. Tree squirrels are diurnal like you, which sounds convenient until you realize it means hours of high-intensity activity that needs an outlet every single day. Deny that outlet and you get a frustrated animal that chews more destructively, stresses, and develops behavior problems. So "daily life with a squirrel" means daily squirrel-proofed free time, daily enrichment, and daily vigilance. Entertaining, absolutely. Restful or low-effort, never.
A note on brumation
One beardie-specific thing worth knowing before you commit: many bearded dragons brumate — a reptile version of hibernation where, usually in the cooler months, they slow down, eat little, and sleep for days or weeks at a time. It's normal and healthy in an otherwise-thriving dragon, but it surprises new keepers, who panic that the animal is sick. The skill is telling normal brumation (good body condition, just sleepy) from actual illness (weight loss, discharge, lethargy with poor condition) — a reptile vet can help you learn the difference. Squirrels don't truly hibernate the way some people assume tree squirrels do; they stay active year-round and cache food rather than sleeping through winter, which is part of why their care never gets a quiet season.
Common mistakes that hurt each animal
I see the same avoidable errors over and over, and knowing them in advance is half the battle.
With bearded dragons, the big ones are all husbandry shortcuts:
- Skipping or under-powering UVB — the single most common cause of metabolic bone disease. A "UVB" bulb that's too weak, mounted too far away, behind glass (which blocks UVB), or expired past six months is functionally no UVB at all.
- A too-small enclosure. A 20-gallon "starter" tank that the dragon outgrows fast leads to stress and stunted animals. Buy for the adult.
- Loose particulate substrate with juveniles, which can cause impaction if ingested during feeding.
- No real heat gradient — either a tank that's uniformly hot (the dragon can't cool down) or a basking spot that's too cool to digest properly.
- All-insect or all-veg adult diets. Adults need the veg-forward balance; juveniles need the protein. Getting the ratio wrong for the life stage causes obesity or poor growth.
With squirrels, the mistakes are more fundamental — often the decision to keep one at all:
- Acquiring one illegally, not realizing it's a permit animal, and risking fines and seizure.
- Underestimating the chewing, then losing furniture, wiring, and chunks of the home — and risking the squirrel's safety on electrical cords.
- Inadequate space, which a squirrel expresses as stress and destructiveness.
- An unbalanced, nut-heavy diet that triggers dental and calcium problems.
- No vet lined up, only to discover at the first emergency that no clinic in the region will treat a squirrel.
The pattern is telling: a bearded dragon's mistakes are fixable husbandry tweaks. Many of a squirrel's are structural problems with keeping one in the first place.
Educational value, for what it's worth
If part of the appeal is learning — for yourself or for kids — both animals teach, just different lessons. A bearded dragon is a living unit on biology: thermoregulation, why a cold-blooded animal basks, how UVB and calcium connect to bone health, the rhythms of molting and brumation, and the discipline of maintaining a controlled environment. Because it's calm and observable, you can actually watch and discuss those behaviors up close, and the daily care teaches patience and consistency. A squirrel teaches a different syllabus — mammalian agility, foraging and caching instincts, problem-solving — but mostly through observation, since hands-on interaction is limited and risky. And the most honest lesson a squirrel offers might be the one about wildlife itself: that some animals are best respected from a distance, in the wild where they belong, rather than brought into a home. That's a worthwhile thing for a kid to learn too.
So, which should you get?
Let me put it as plainly as I can.
Get a bearded dragon if you want a real pet you can legally own, handle calmly, and keep for the long haul. The beardie is the right answer for first-time reptile keepers, for families with kids, for busy people who need a low-daily-footprint animal, and for apartment dwellers who can't dedicate a room to a climbing mammal. Yes, the setup is demanding and the lifespan is long — but the care is well-documented, the supplies are everywhere, and once it's running, a beardie is one of the most rewarding and forgiving exotic pets you can keep.
Consider a squirrel only if you are a licensed wildlife rehabilitator caring for a non-releasable animal, or one of the narrow set of permitted keepers in a state that legally allows it and you have the space, the daily time, the chew-proofed environment, and confirmed access to a squirrel-capable exotic vet. That's a small group. For everyone else, a squirrel is best loved as the wild animal it is — fed in the yard, watched in the park, and left to be a squirrel.
The framing I keep coming back to is this: a bearded dragon is a pet. A squirrel is wildlife. You can build a great life for a beardie inside your home, legally and safely, for 10–15 years. You generally can't do that for a squirrel — not legally, not safely, and arguably not ethically. For almost everyone asking the question, the bearded dragon isn't just the better pet. It's the only one of the two that's really a pet at all.
If you go the beardie route, your next steps are nailing the enclosure (heat, UVB, gradient, low humidity) and locking in a clean feeder supply so the diet half takes care of itself.
More from the collection: the lighter bearded dragons vs. squirrels facts guide, my discoid roach keeping playbook for feeding your dragon, and the full exotic animal care library.