Mystic watched Roberta clasp the camera in her hands. Her increasingly desperate attempts to get him to stay in one place was attracting curious glances from the other people who had chosen to spend their Sunday at the park. He cocked his head to the side and wagged his tail thinking, "That's right, over here. C'mon you silly girl, follow the puppy!"

He went over to run circles around her shuffling feet, just enough to put her off balance, before leaping away just outside of the lens view. Roberta called out to him, "Oh, SIT boy! Please! Just STAY put for God's sake!" Beads of sweat began to roll off the top of her lip, and Mystic could hear the elevation of stress in her voice. He beelined for the lake, causing the ducks to scatter in alarm, and forcing his owner to chase after him.

Mystic caught sight of Prince, the West Highland Terrier, lounging beside his master Derrick just a few yards off. They exchanged glances before Mystic proceeded to yelp at Roberta's ankles. She squealed a little, and cursed him quite a bit more, but eventually threw her camera to the ground before plonking herself down in despair beside it.

A large dewdrop fell from a sycamore leaf, straight onto Robert's head, causing her to blush with humiliation and emotional anguish. It took a few moments for Derrick to make his way over, Prince at his heels. Roberta tried to hide from him the tear drops that were beginning well, but he smiled with his azure eyes, and swiftly nabbed the camera, training it towards Mystic with an eager, "Who's a good boy?" The flash went off, and triumphantly he proclaimed, "See, that's how you get your dog to behave!"

Roberta stared longingly at Derrick's cherubic smile, his white teeth catching the sunlight, as it always did. It seemed as though a spark suddenly passed between them, a moment for which Roberta had been waiting, for three anxious years.

Mystic's eyes rolled. Prince exchanged another glance with him, sharing in his despair for their human masters.