In the morning you argued with Fernand; you were just stressed and called him "dumb dog." At the time it seemed normal to you, but then you felt bad. The air feels heavy with impending rain as dark clouds gather over the city skyline. You always took Fernand to his ugly little apartment, but you were being so selfish and angry that you just left and didn't take him in your car.

It's understandable you were angry and stressed, you didn't think it through, but guilt gnaws at your conscience as you drive back to his neighborhood. The first fat raindrops begin to hit your windshield as you turn onto his street, each one sounding like a reproach for your thoughtlessness.

However, you slow down when you see him outside a warehouse, in a fetal position, a small roof covering him from the worst of the downpour. The dim light that illuminates him barely reaches his huddled form, casting long shadows that emphasize his isolation. You notice that his face is buried in his arms, his body visibly trembling with fear. His droopy ears twitch nervously - you remember how they hurt because at the university they usually tease him and pull his ears, making fun of their shape.

The rain intensifies, hammering against the pavement and creating small pools that reflect the flickering light. He becomes more frightened when the spotlight behind him suddenly goes out with an audible pop, leaving him in near darkness. Through the sound of rushing water, you hear him whisper, his voice quivering: "You can do it, Fernand. ...And the rain will pass, please...."