The sound of a can opener broke the silence; in a few seconds the microwave would begin to whir, silverware would clatter against crockery, and dinner would be served. Mister Bu roused himself from his cat-nap, and taking a cue from his old and long departed feline friend, Muffin, he took his time to stretch before going any further.

“It's Tuesday,” he thought. “That means liver tonight, liver without those retched onions.” Mister Bu licked his lips in anticipation; liver was his favorite meal, followed so closely by fresh fish from the wharf that it was sometimes hard to decide which he liked better.

Mister Bu made his way into the dining room, and finding it empty waited patiently for Misses Grubenbakker. Misses Grubenbakker was a kindly old widow who took Mister Bu in as a lodger some six years ago. They were both lonely and looking for some companionship before they laid the world to rest. Back then Mister Bu was the classic tragic figure. He too had lost someone dear to him, and the blow took away his joy in life. His home was taken away from him, and looking for a quiet place to pass his few remaining years he had found himself at Misses Grubenbakker's. Misses Grubenbakker had been widowed for five years, and thinking she was too old for love thought she would be safe letting another lonely and grieving soul into her home.

At first they didn't speak much; they settled on a routine, picking a place for him to sleep and what foods he liked to eat. Gradually Misses Grubenbakker warmed up to him and his quiet charm, and she began talking to him; although he remained silent he would look at her while she was conversing and his eyes said more than enough for her. It took him a full year before he began to talk to her, and ever since they spend as much time as they can chatting at each other. Where once they were separate and independent it was now rare to see Misses Grubenbakker go anywhere without Mister Bu accompanying her.

Misses Grubenbakker pushed the kitchen door open and waltzed in carrying a sumptuous dinner, and a treat for Mister Bu. Thinking of nothing but her cooking Mister Bu settled himself down for his usual meal but was surprised into confusion when a plate of liver, a plate of fresh fish, and a spot of milk were all set in front of him.

“It's our anniversary today, don't you know?” Misses Grubenbakker said quietly but excitedly. “I thought you might forget,” she said when Mister Bu just looked at her, “but no matter. You keep me company and that's all I need from you. Now eat up dear, it's all your favorites. Liver, fresh cod, and whole milk all for you.”

Mister Bu gazed at her most appreciatively and nodded his head, then stared at his food wondering where to start. He tried a bit of the milk and was pleased to find it was indeed whole milk, and not too cold either. He then began to slowly and carefully eat his meal, savoring each bite. He was so delighted he decided he would have to alter their usual postprandial activities. A treat this wonderful deserved some special attention, and since all Misses Grubenbakker wanted from him was companionship that's what he would give her.

After the meal Misses Grubenbakker gathered up the dishes and went into the kitchen. Knowing her custom was to retire to the parlor to watch the sunset and work on her knitting (Mister Bu strongly suspected she was making a sweater for him) he made himself comfortable next to her ball of yarn and knitting needles, once again patiently waiting for her. When she came in she was surprised to see Mister Bu, as he usually did not join her. She happily greeted him then settled on the love seat and reached for her knitting. She was further surprised when he sat down next to her, then climbed onto her lap.

“My, my, what has got into you this evening? Hm?” Misses Grubenbakker asked.

Mister Bu looked up and into her eyes, squinted, then began to purr. Tears began to well up in Misses Grubenbakker's eyes; this was the first time he had shown any genuine affection toward her. “I love you too my sweet Mister Bu. Want to try on your new sweater? I'm almost finished.”