Dream: Lost Dog
As ever, the start of the dream isn't as clear as the rest of it. There was a section involving some kind of clubhouse that had been built, where the ground floor was a large common room. There were several floors above containing rooms, I assume, around a large four-sided (spiralling) staircase. The staircase could be seen from the common room and then at the very top it was 'capped' with a glass roof. I'm not sure I've described that very well, but it sort of looked like a funnel, with the common area being the large end of the funnel and the staircase / glass ceiling being the tapered end. All of the furniture I remember as being black, and the walls / carpets were white or grey.
This seemed to lead into the next section somehow. I'd had some kind of dispute at work with a colleague which was in the process of being mediated, and it seemed as though I'd gotten into trouble for something which I hadn't done and the colleague was responsible for either the accusation or the thing for which I'd been blamed. It wasn't that clear. In any event, at the point in the dream I'd started a period of leave, but apparently everyone thought I wasn't at work because of the dispute instead.
I was living with my mum in our old house at Reginald Road (I seem to dream about this a lot, though it never resembles it that clearly) and I was annoyed about something - not sure if this was related to the work thing above or if it was something else entirely. I'd decided to go out so I was pulling clothes and shoes on, and I think I was talking to someone about going out for fresh air, but I've no idea who.
It then transpired we had a little Scotty dog, who for the majority of the proceedings was called Rum (the name of my mum's cat IRL) even though he was actually called Huckleberry (the name of one of my nan's dogs IRL). Anyway, I think he was quite a young dog (what I'd call 'teenaged' in dog years, maybe 2 or 3 years old) but he was very well behaved, so I didn't put him on a lead when I went for my walk. I carried him out of the house initially, and then put him on the floor and for the most part he stayed next to me or ran ahead, stopped and waited for me to catch up.
The road itself did resemble the real Reginald Road upon first leaving the house in the dream, but the similarity began and ended with that road. It started off being a fairly sunny day but it must have been early evening when I was leaving, judging by what happened later on. There was a group of lads hanging around on the street, but they ignored me and the dog for the most part, and we were enjoying our walk.
The dog ran on ahead to the end of the street, where there was a crossroads. At this point I must have lost concentration for a moment because the dog had run on ahead and I'd lost him. I was standing at the crossroads looking in all directions but he was nowhere to be found.
There was then a taxi involved. I don't know if I called the taxi, or if the driver saw me and picked me up, or if I'd intended to get it somewhere and had ordered it in advance. In any case, the driver was very friendly and helpful and there also seemed to be a woman in th car with him, who seemed to be his wife or sister. He was middle-aged looking with greyish hair; I don't remember what the woman looked like.
Anyway, I was in a panic because I'd lost the dog and asked the taxi driver to help me, which he agreed to do. Since we were at a crossroad he asked which way I wanted to go, so I went for the most logical choice first and decided to go straight on.
We'd been driving for a bit when I spotted a puppy running down the road and asked the driver to stop. I opened the door and called the puppy over, and it excitedly got into the car with me. It turned out to be a baby labrador, not my little Scotty dog, and even though it was very friendly and loving, I nonetheless had to put it back outside. I could see some more dogs on the street, with their owners or running ahead, and I got out of the car to see if any more came around the corner. At this point it looked like a well-to-do residential area with big houses set back from the road. Several dogs did emerge from around the corner, but they were fully-grown big dogs or other smaller dogs, not mine. Whilst I was standing on the pavement, two women got into the cab and started ordering the driver around, so I had harsh words and they got out again, looking unimpressed. I gave up then and got back in myself and we headed off again.
The road ahead led to a brightly-lit area full of restaurants and shops which looked vaguely like Soho. We went past a big Indian restaurant which was called "Prince of Persia" and was apparently a landmark because I recognised it. It took up most of a block and was situated on the corner of the main road and a side street. It was a large Victorian-type building with several floors (though I assume the other floors were offices) and it was literally covered in bright neon lighting proclaiming the name of the restaurant in big ornate letters, as well as being generally covered in brightly coloured fairy lights. Looked pretty amazing, actually. There was another restaurant and some other landmarks that I 'recognised' (in the dream), in that I knew that they were in Bearwood but wouldn't have been able to navigate to them myself.
We eventually came out of the area and into a more deserted area. I can remember going around a corner / curve (as in, that's where the road went, not because it was a choice) and under a bridge that didn't attach to anything - more like an arch - and into this abandoned area that seemed like a building site. There were massive buildings everywhere with their doors and windows all boarded up. Again they were all Victorian in style - tall and imposing with sash windows and ornate decoration on the walls. Further along the road was an apparently ancient building dating from Roman times - some kind of arena-type building edged by columns.
The place really gave me the creeps. I remember that more vividly than the rest of the dream. The driver was explaining how it had been a housing project that was never finished, designed around the old Roman building originally and then taken over by local bodies to turn it into designer houses / flats or whatever. The sun was still shining at this point (despite the apparent night-time when we were in the busy area) but that just seemed to make it all seem more stark. The road ran in front of the building frontages. In the middle of the row there were two more huge arches, which looked like they would have led to the back of the building (to a carpark, maybe), but they were bricked up. The bottom of the buildings were soot-stained black (from exhaust fumes or other pollution).
Despite being decided freaked out by the area, I also made a decision to come back (but not on my own!) to take photographs for ontdcreepy because the place was so eerie. Apparently my subconscious likes to throw in bits of reality to confuse me...
The road circled back onto the main road after it left the abandoned estate, and we were back to the crossroads again, though facing the other way. Having still not found the dog, my next logical course of action was to go left. On leaving the house originally the dog and I had been walking on the right hand side of the road, and for some reason I knew the dog didn't like crossing roads, so he would probably have continued following the pavement and thus turned right - which was left from the other direction, where were were facing.
So we went left, and reached this large commercial-looking building, like an office block. There was a set of wide steps leading up to the glass-fronted ground floor, and there were lots of business folk milling about with briefcases. Again it was sunny. I was asking if anyone had seen a little brown Scotty dog anywhere, and nobody could help me. Someone had one of those somersaulting toy dogs which was in the form of a Scotty, asking if that was what I meant, and I said, "Yes, but it's a real dog!" Apart from that nobody had seen him. Then I found myself inside a large electronic store (again!!) and was calling for Rum, before remembering the dog was actually called Huckleberry. Once I started calling his proper name he miraculously appeared from behind some equipment, unscathed and wagging his tail. I picked him up and made my way back to the taxi.
I was worried that the fare was going to be horrendous, but the driver was so nice he said I didn't have to bother paying because I'd almost ended up back where I'd started. We'd reached the big neon area again and I said he could drop me off there because I knew the way back.
He'd dropped me by the big Indian restaurant from earlier. Except then I coudn't remember how to get back to where I lived or which direction to go in. I started going straight on as I thought that would bring me out somewhere I recognised, but instead I ended up inside a shopping arcade and reached a dead end. I do remember thinking that I didn't realise Bearwood was so bijou and should tell people about it. I retraced my steps to the restaurant again and then conceded defeat and phoned my mum, who gave me directions, and eventually I was back on the residential street again.
In retrospect, I just used a lot of words to describe very little action. This was one of those incredbly vivid, atmospheric dreams, and most of the reason I wanted to write it down was because of the eerie abandoned estate in the middle. I was so creeped out by that both in the dream and immediately after I woke up that I wanted to note it down for posterity. It was one of those situations where, if it was a film, you could imagine the scary music starting up in the background...
So, there it is. I hope this means a vague return to form in terms of dream-remembrance. I miss remembering my dreams, even when they make no sense. Where my RL creativity fails me, my subconscious can always surprise me and produce the kind of imagery I thought myself incapable of.
Incidentally, there is work stuff to update about, but I'll wait until it's blown over. Besides, things are busy here again and I've not had time to think.
Good news: Paul finally has a start date, and it's this Monday (28th June). Considering he got the conditional job offer in mid-May, I am less than impressed with HR and Occupational Health for slowing the entire process to a crawl, and that apparently being off sick once per year (effectively) is enough to warrant filling out a form that assesses whether you're fit for work. New sickness policy FTW.
That be it. Over and out.