I thought Finney was showing signs of getting better, but he is very clearly not improving. We’ve all been up for a couple of hours and he is definitely in pain.

I am once again just waiting for the vet to open. It is just killing me watching him move from spot to spot, crying, trying to find relief. I had one more dose of pain killer left and I gave it to him a few minutes ago. I’m hoping it kicks in soon.

I had one nice moment yesterday. One of the detectives from my previous book about the NYPD’s cold case squad had called the other day about something, and I told him about Finney and he could hear the stress in my voice. Yesterday he called to ask about Finney. He’d just been through something recently with his dog (who is okay) and he knew how horrible it is when your pet is suffering.

I just remembered, there was also a message from my friend Chris who had been following the updates on my blog and knew I must be a wreck!  (I have to call Chris back.  Sorry Chris!)

But I’m trying not to act stressed because I’ve seen how that affects the cats and makes it even worse. My poor little guy.  Oh God.  There’s also the issue of the cost of the sonogram and surgery (it’s the least of my concerns, but still, oh god oh god).

Stacy Horn

I've written six non-fiction books, the most recent is Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.

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