That was very brave and loving of you, to release Starr sooner rather than later, you gave him one last great gift. The pain is very great, I know, and you carry it with you wherever you are and whatever you do for some time. Try to keep bringing to mind his fun times, the cuddle times, the crazy kitten times.
I had no idea he was that sick, and it's difficult to imagine such a young cat (who doesn't have something obviously dire like cancer) being so very, very ill. I think my Darcy is ill in a similar way with inflammation in his colon, interstitial cystitis, and some stomatitis. It's near impossible to believe that a young adult, looking wonderful and acting playfully though perhaps not vigorously, can have an illness that is basically putting the body into constant fight mode. I have had a tendency to blow out of proportion the positive signs - such as decent appetite, loving attention, chasing Maeve under the chair, convincing myself that proves he's really okay, and not letting myself really think about the bad signs. This is like a wake-up call to me to face what I don't want to believe, what I really want to down-play into near insignificance.
Starr was very lucky in his guardian.
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