I’m still here in Vietnam, but in a huge facility like the JW Marriott in Hong Kong. Pretty sure I work there; as in, my company rents space in the building. A female friend (maybe Nhung?) and I are just sitting down to our cafeteria-style lunches. First, I eat my thinly-sliced beef with some rice, then move on to my piece of chicken. Suddenly, I look down and realize the head’s still attached and I’ve almost eaten into it! (And it’s a big head, like the size of a cat’s.) I look at the only other thing on my plate and realize that it’s a puppy baked into a doughy roll! (It’s like a dinner roll with a puppy face.)
Nhung is just about to dig into her puppy – we have identical trays of food – when I exclaim, “No, don’t! Look, it’s a puppy!” She looks at it and replies, “No, it’s not.” I watch in horror as the small thing starts to move, as if waking up. At first it looks like something’s wrong with him. In my dream, I tell myself it’s due to being baked. Fast-forward a few minutes, and the puppy is suddenly a full-sized dog bounding and barking around the carpeted foyer.
Still in the same dream, Nhung and the dog are gone and I’m walking through this vast, modern Marriott-type place to get my backpack like I’d do at the end of a workday. As I grab it, my friend, Kerry, calls me over to a booth where’s she’s sitting, “Susan! C’mere a sec!” As I walk over, I see that she’s sitting across the table from Mike Hughes, president of the Martin Agency.
As I approach he says abruptly, “Actually, I’ve got to get going” and starts to get up. Immediately, I lied and told Kerry, “I can’t talk right now either. I’ll call you, ok?” and left so Mike wouldn’t need to leave.