I walk into a classroom, carrying a small black dog, I believe Charlie. He's sort of kicking and squirming, because he doesn't like to be picked up, but I'm trying to act nonchalant, on the theory that if you can carry a dog somewhere, nobody will mind him being there.

I ask the teacher if it's ok to have the dog there, and he gives a non-committal answer, like he's not sure if it'll be ok or not. I assure him that everything will be fine, and if it's not, summer is coming in just a few weeks, so we won't have to endure it very long.

The teacher tells some sort of funny story, and then we dismiss for a break. I meet the teacher in the bathroom - it's Mr. Bertrand from high school. I tell him that I remember another funny story he told in class once, that I still remember, about chili and a finger (*1).

I can't seem to pee, because the footing is poor, and slippery, like it's muddy. I keep starting to go, but then slipping or tipping and having to stop. I even lean on the wall. There is a board on the ground (*2), and I stand on it for stability, but even it doesn't support me for long.

(*1) I would not remember Mr. Bertrand's name except in this dream. He told a story in a business class about somebody finding a severed finger in a can of chili. The punchline was that it was ok, the finger was cooked.

(*2) Today I hiked Cape Meares and there was a similar board placed in a very muddy spot in the trail.