Thank you for all of your prayers and good wishes and light and energy. I was reeling last night, and spend the evening slashing carpet and scraping at the floor, and it really did help. Murphy slept next to me all night, on his back, snoring, like he didn't have a care in the world. He woke lethargic, but was able to be persuaded to eat some chicken for breakfast (it took remarkably little persuasion, and seconds were offered and consumed). He followed it with his antibiotic-and-cheese snack, and another cube of cheese for good measure. But between the feedings he took to his cushion, and I tried twice to get him to go for a walk, and he was having none of that nonsense. He actually came to get the leash clipped on, then stood there, thinking, and refused to move. I unclipped him, and he went right back to his bed.
Tonight he greeted me at the door, did a subdued but passable imitation of his usual Mommy Greeting, went out to hunt lizards, and came in to eat chicken. He's sleeping again. We will try a walk later, after dinner has a chance to settle.
Tomorrow I drop him for the ultrasound at 7:30, and go in to the office for a half day. I told my boss what was going on, and bless him, he totally "got it" - he and his wife are animal people too, and he understands how hard this is, to see a beloved friend sick. I told the boss that I will be utterly useless at the office, and need to leave early to get him as soon as the test is over. No problem.
I am holding out hope that it's a benign something just giving him discomfort. Murphy is not one to suffer pain gracefully - a leaf stuck to his paw on a walk leads to his holding up the paw and looking pitiful. So while I don't think he's feeling like himself (DUH!) I also don't think he's in pain.
Whatever it is, we will deal with it. But Goddamn, I am so fucking sick of Dealing With It.