The best boy in the whole world died on October 4, 2012 at 5:15 a.m. He passed away in his Mommy's arms as his Daddy knelt between the veterinarian and her assistant so that he could look in to his boy's eyes as the needle was administered and Henry's life ended just 15 seconds later,

Henry Aaron was our tabby cat, just one month short of his 15th birthday. He was a victim of congestive heart failure, causing him lengthy periods of shortness of breath that could only be relieved by medication.

It has taken me five days to begin writing about Henry. I did spend time making an outline of his time spent with us; anecdotes, routines, things that made us laugh and most importantly, what made us love him so much. It became an impossible task to list all the ways he gave us consummate joy every day of his life.

We first saw Henry as a kitten at our local Human Society. The first kitten we held was a black and white with a runny nose and the administrators did not want him to leave the shelter with a cold. I'd like to say that I picked Henry, but it really was the other way around. It was as if he chose us to be his parents. After holding him for a moment, we put him on the floor and he raced for the toys in the back of the room. We took him to a private room for some bonding time and we knew he was our guy.

We paid 30 dollars for Henry and he gave us back a thousand times that with his love and affection.

The next morning, my wife, Grace brought him home. Grace loved cats and was very familiar with their habits and needs. I had never owned a cat, knew nothing about them, and just figured that I'd pet him every once in a while and that would be it. How wrong I was.

We do not have any children. We had a lot of love to give and we gave it all to Henry and he reciprocated. We marveled at his sweetness and his loving personality.

When words like "great" and "perfect" are used so ocommonly, it almost reduces their meaning. Everyone can't be great, everything can't be perfect. But we are absolutely certain that Henry was perfect for us.

We knew we were blessed to have him enter our lives and bring peace to a world that sometimes gets too hectic and fast-paced.

He grew to have his special moments with us as individuals. He loved lying on the bed with Grace early in the morning, side by side, holding her hands. He would wait for her as she showered, needing a pick-me-up as soon as she put on her white robe.

My lap became his resting spot every time I sat in our recliner. He would always approach the chair and circle it in a counter-clockwise fashion, appearing on my right side as he jumped on to my lap. I always had to be prepared for his arrival, covering my legs with one of his countless blankets.

He loved watching movies with us. It was a wonderful time for him to be near us and to nap. He would rest on one of his blankets or inside one of his many cushions or "tubbies." We called them "sleep movies," and with the notable exception of the stinker, "Swordfish," he would be us through the entire showing. He walked out on "Swordfish." He displayed exceptional taste.

There wasn't a single room or area in the house that wasn't his. He spent almost 40,000 nights in our house spending only one night away from his hoome until his last night on earth as he was in emergency care.

We received a call at 2:00 in the morning from the doctor stating that they could not keep his respirations down and that the outlook was not good. We raced to the hospital and found Henry in his oxygen tank, stretched out and panting. The doctor gave him one more shot and allowed us to take Henry to a private area.

Grace laid her blanketed legs over mine and we were able to hold Henry for almost two hours. His breathing was nearly normal and we had our last peaceful moments with him. We told him, as we did every day, that we loved him and that he was the best boy in the whole world. It was just like all those nights at home. We were in awe of his beauty and gentleness.

We have photographs, movies and memories of Henry, but nothing can dull the pain of his absence. We see him in every room, on every piece of furniture, on every window ledge. He was our son.

We were his caregivers, but he took care of us daily also. He did double-duty whenever one of us was ill, always being by our side, his mere presence easing our discomfort.

He was loving, smart, handsome, funny, but most of all he was good. He was always good. In a world that often disappoints, he was our hope. So many times, Grace and I would just watch him as he rested on warm towels or curled his little arm over his eyes when it became too noisy during his nap attempt. We would smile at each other, amazed by his beauty and what this precious gift had added to our lives.

Our lives were changed when we first held him in our arms and now they have been altered again upon his death. We will never be the same without our boy. His legacy will be one of peace, compassion and good. His life will stand as an example of good to us all. We will grieve for our Henry forever.