There Dog sat, day after day, wondering if she might show her face but one more time...

It had been an awful day. It had rained and the master wasn't pleased when they returned from their daily stroll as the mud from Dog's paws had no where to go but the carpet in the hallway.

He was banished into the small room with the bright light where everything was white and cold. This time the rain was warm, though that did nothing to lift Dog's spirits. Afterwards, when he was dry and the master had gone for the day, Dog didn't even have the heart to nose through his bowl of hardened bird-droppings.

Eventually, Dog found himself in front of the cold wall-square lens and lay his body down to brood himself into a somber nap when something ruffled his innards. A movement, the blink of an eye, something outside needed his attention. Dog raised his gaze and there she was in all her magnificent beauty, a creature unlike any he'd seen before. Immediately, Dog felt ashamed, it wasn't natural and he knew it. Although never any quite so lovely, Dog had seen and smelled felines before. There was the one a few doors down with only three legs, and the tabby that lived in the stairwell that was missing part of its ear. But this... her...

Dog eased himself towards the wall-lens and his nose touched the cold. For an instant, their eyes met and Dog let out a soft whimper, knowing she couldn't hear. She put her paw against her wall-lens and Dog mirrored her. They sat like that for what seemed like dog-years, gazing, soaking each other in, curious and ashamed of their sudden desire.

Then just as suddenly as he had seen her, Dog lost her behind the guillotine of sticks. The barking... he only remembered the barking afterwards... it was infectious and at night he'd lay awake staring out the wall-lens, wondering if she had heard him. He'd barked and barked until his voice gave out and his master came home and found him collapsed in the same spot by the wall-lens, opening and closing his mouth though no sounds could come out.

It had been so long ago that Dog no longer knew if it had ever even happened. Still, every day after Master left, Dog took up his vigil by the wall-lens thinking maybe this day would be the day that she might appear again.

...It was a day when hope had seemed faint and Dog's will to keep vigil was at it's weakest. He even turned away a few times to inspect the new ball that Master had brought him, but looked back us as quickly as he looked away - for those are the perils of hope...

And then there she was, peeking out from between the sticks of the guillotine, curiosity embodied. Their eyes met once more and there, lost in her gaze, Dog allowed himself a single tear of joy.