Over the course of the next several weeks, Mr. Smith, as I called him, stopped by my humble abode almost every day. He just seemed to appear out of nowhere. We would spend a couple enjoyable hours just talking about little things. The weather, the markets and governments bail outs. World economy and who would win the American elections. But he never really talked about his 'companion'again. And I never pressed him about it either. It must've still been too tragic an event in his life to look at directly just then. I have to admit, I really found Mr. Smith very attractive in so many ways. He was a real gentleman with a very winning disposition, a ready wit and a most delightful grasp of any topic I could think to discuss with him. Not once in all the times we had our visits, did he give any indication he was any more interested in me other than as a good friend and a ready listener. One day, as we were sitting in the front room, my cat named Jabba, (I'm a great Star Wars fan, but that's another story) came into the room and as usual was playing around Mr. Smith's feet. He usually petted Jabba, but today, he seemed more receptive to Jabba than usual. Jabba must've sensed this and sat up on his back legs and stretched his front paws up to Mr. Smith as if in greeting. I could see a reluctant little smile start to creep across Mr. Smith's face as he looked down at Jabba. Mr. Smith didn't smile much. It was always a pleasure to see him when he did. At any rate, he reached down and picked up Jabba and held him in his lap for quite awhile, petting him and just uttering nonsensical words to him. Jabba really loved the attention he was getting. I could hear him purring clear across the room. I thought to myself, 'perhaps we are starting to get somewhere with this Mr. Smith after all'.