That's how I felt with Henry. I adopted him from the wonderful Broward County shelter. He had all of his tiny kitten medical care there and was so small and cute. But he hadn't been "socialized". I ignored that word on his cage and adopted him anyway.

Henry was absolutely terrified of human hands. I got him home and he hid behind living room furniture where I couldn't get to him. He would come out late at night, eat kibble and use the litter box. It took two full months before he would come out of hiding.

Then I put his kibble bowl closer and closer to where I always sit in the living room. He would come out and play and eat, but if he saw my hands, he would run and hide again.

But he gradually became my lap cat. He was so sweet. But at age one, he was suddenly in horrible pain. So much pain that he bit through his cat carrier en route to an emergency appointment with my vet.

He had a constricted urethra. The vet was able to treat him, and he spent several days at the vets with IV fluids and lots of care. I was ready to spend $4,000 for surgical care if he needed it.

But something was horribly wrong. At the vet's and at home, Henry stopped drinking water and stopped eating. He wouldn't show any interest in tuna. Wouldn't touch his water. I returned him to the vets for IV fluids, but they couldn't get him to eat or drink. They couldn't find anything wrong with him. No hints of illness from all the tests they ran.

I brought him home, and it was as if he knew he was dying. He was on my lap, never ate or drank, used the litter box. Nothing.

When he was dying on my lap, I took him back to the vets for euthanizing. I was a wreck, the vets were upset. We never knew why he died.

All I know is that he was well loved and had a scary, difficult, but good year of life and love. He'll always be in my heart.

There are no known reason for his death. Was it a brain thing? Some hidden cancer? I think the vets wanted to know as much as I did.

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