I'm at my parents, and the news warns us of dangerous lightning on the roads, but I think what the heck, how bad could lightning possibly be? With some other people, I head out on the road toward home.

Just barely up the road from the house, the lightning starts on the road. I'm not sure if it even comes from the sky, but it strikes on the road up ahead and then crackles up the road toward us. I try to dodge it, but it hits my wheels anyway so I stop the vehicle. It's like a three-wheeled surrey, but enclosed like a car, and the front wheel is completely shredded by the lightning. We're not going anywhere.

Just then a van pulls up behind us and offers to get us home. We are very appreciative, and start quickly gathering ourselves into the van. I have several backpacks and bags containing various things; I'm trying to decide which to take and which to leave, but I'm glad that the van has room for everything we want to bring.

Suddenly I notice my brother Dave standing in the ditch on the other side of the road, and stooping down to pick up something. As he stands back up, clear liquid spills out of his mouth. He is holding my dog Charlie, who apparently jumped out of the car and got hit by a car coming the other way. There's no blood, but his face is marred and his eyes are lifeless. I cry in horror, although I seem unable to feel the real emotions of it, and go over there to check him out.

We set Charlie on the road, and he takes a few walking steps, intentional, but mindless like a zombie, and I think for a minute that he's still a little alive, and can maybe be saved! But it seems not; a lady who is nearby say that this happens, it means he had some certain disease that makes them walk around for a little bit after they are dead.

I'm thinking how terrible it is that he died just now, because my other dog Sydney had apparently died just a few days ago, and so it was finally "Charlie's time" when he could be a lap dog.