He waits impatiently for a treat,
pacing thru piss and shit.
His keen ears hear a sound in the distance.
Is it HIM? 
My m-a-s-t-e-r?
His eyes stare and seek bulging.
A car rounds the corner, , ,  headlights closer,
closer.
Is it his car? NO! ! NO! !
Despair sinks in, dejected head down. . .
The minutes s-l-o-w-l-y tick by.
Again a sound. . . a familiar smell.
It IS him! !
Ya-hoo! ! Yea! !
Lick lick, salivating, the treat is dispensed.
A pat on the head.
This is enough for now. . .
The junkie lights his lighter, heats a spoon
injects, exhales. . . feels ok. . .