We are living in my parents' house, and Natasha has brought home the carcass of a dog from the butcher. It's been skinned, and she's going to cook it up.

I see it and say something about it being very fresh, and she says yes, it's "eyeball in", apparently a mark of freshness. I look closely at its eyes; the downside one (the dog is laying on his left side) is gone but the upside one (toward the customer) is present, and he's looking around, even wagging his tail in response to our attention.

I'm horrified at his condition and immedately chop off his head with a cleaver as an act of mercy, but his head doesn't die. I put his mouth up to his flesh so that he can have some meat to eat, to distract him with some pleasure in the last moments of his life. He nibbles a little and seems to like it.

Then my cat Milou comes in, and she has had several of her legs chopped off, how or why I don't recall, but it seemed an intentional act of murder that wasn't finished. Natasha and Alona immediately start screaming for me to chop off her head too, but I'm horrified with the idea of her last thoughts in the world being of me holding her and chopping off her head. But she's walking so clumsily and the girls are howling "Please, just chop it off", so I clear a space on the chopping block and grab the meat cleaver, which I had stashed out of sight on something high near the second sink.

Fortunately I awakened then.