First, I am so sorry for your loss and the pain you feel, not having your baby to come home to.
I have 5 of my own (neutered/front declawed) and take care of two neighborhood kitties that were abandoned (neutered/NOT declawed) whom I keep separated, in the kitchen. T.C. (Top Cat) is one of my Kitchen Kitties. Of all the neighborhood cats I've neutered and cared for through the years he's the one who's been around and whom I've loved the longest, so when I was sure he was losing weight I took him to my vet. First thing, he needed A LOT of dental work, which I was willing to have done. But he seemed to be terribly anemic so tests were run. Negative for FIV and leukemia so the doctor took blood to check his kidney function. He had been so weak and had all manner of bacteria in his poo so he was immediately put on Clavamox. That was Thursday. On Monday, the test results came back but she wanted to wait until Wednesday to talk face-to-face, as I was bringing one of My Five in for his third FIV shot (he goes outside and he bites...). While there, the doctor told me T.C.'s white blood cell count was the highest she'd seen since we euthanized another neighborhood stray, Tipper, for leukemia, several months' back. She told me it had to be cancer. We arranged to euthanize T.C. the next day. Still, T.C. had been on Clavamox for seven days at that point. When I got home I spent quite a bit of time with T.C. and noticed he was eating ravenously and was considerably peppier than he had been before the antibiotic worked its magic so I left a message with the vet's voicemail, cancelling the euthanasia. I said I felt T.C. had a lot of life left in him yet and wanted to hold off until he was in real distress. I'd only recently gotten a digital camera and was worried that, all those years, while working so many hours, I'd hardly thought to photograph him (or the others). So I prayed for lovely weather and hoped T.C. would have some time to play outside with his Kitchen Kitty buddy, Casper (his FAVORITE thing in the world), and I could get some great pictures. It happened! One day of beautiful weather and Those Two playing and frolicking like little kittens in the sun and shade. I got lovely photos of My Honeyman and his best pal. Since then, he's been gaining weight and (mostly) playing like he used to. At first, I thought the diagnosis had to be wrong (and, obviously, if he's close to the end, anesthesia is out of the question so I have to practically puree his food so he can eat without too much pain), but I notice now he has good days and less-than-good days where he's a bit wobbly when I pet him. I'd like to attribute it to the ridiculously rainy weather that's become almost a daily issue (rainy days seem to depress all my babies) but I try not to kid myself. But when it's nice enough for the two of them to go out T.C. has so much fun it's obvious he's not ready to GO. Until it becomes obvious I'm hanging on to him. But I feel for you and I sigh when I read your post because it tells me what's ahead for me and mine. I'm not yet ready to think about what I will do about T.C.'s buddy, Casper, after T.C.'s gone because that means T.C. would need to be gone (Could I declaw Casper and integrate him into the family? Or would I have to leave him alone in the kitchen, mourning his vanished friend?) - and I can't go there yet. I fantasize that T.C. has been misdiagnosed and I'm stuffing his skinny little body with food while I watch him carefully. If My Boy does leave, I pray his final moments are spent curled up in on a front porch chair in the afternoon sun, with the wind chimes tinkling, instead of in a sterile doctor's office. I just want to enjoy my Honeyman's company as much as possible while I watch him "fight" with his buddy, Casper. And I pray for the strength to do the right thing when it becomes obvious my baby hasn't been misdiagnosed and he's not going quietly into that warm sun.
Just remeber all the wonderful, happy, and silly times that make you smile 
