Hobgoblins of the mind

For the last two nights the same dream:

The wife, child and I are in some type of industrial building that has been converted into residential lofts. We are being pursued by four hellhounds, large sinister dogs that look like a cross between a great dane and a german shepherd with charcoal grey teeth and red glowing eyes. They stalk us slowly with hackles raised, letting out gutteral growls, woofs and howls. As they systematically block our escape routes without attacking, they force us through corridors that we do not wish to travel. It is clear that they are making sport of us and positioning us for the kill.

We finally panic and bolt into one of the lofts with the hounds in pursuit. The two exit points are an elevator and a doorway at the top of a long flight of metal stairs where we came in. The wife and child take shelter behind the door to the loo and I find myself perched on a timber jutting out from the brick wall, twenty feet or more above the hardwood floor. We are trapped.

I take stock of my situation. The wife and child are safe behind the door for the moment. One of the hellhounds guards the doorway to my family and another sits on the landing, staring me down with a continuous growl. The other two hounds pace back and forth below me, waiting for me to fall. Normal science not applying (This being a dream after all) I am able to maintain my position forever and the scenario is effectively a stalemate.

The two hellhounds below me manage to trap themselves in the elevator. Seeing no alternative, I jump over to the staircase to confront the hound that is guarding me.

As my feet come down on the landing I see that The hellhound is actually a Lhasa Apso. It does not so much charge as it does waddle up to me. I promptly boot the thing like an NFL placekicker, into the brick wall on the far side of the loft. It lands behind a credenza (I have no idea whose place this is) with a thump.

The last hellhound covers the distance in a flash. It has also changed, this one still carrying the german shepherd traits but now looking more like a black lab mix. His teeth are white and his eyes are a puzzled brown. He is a juvenile pup and unsure of himself or my authority. I command him to SIT and he obeys sheepishly, as though he expects to hear a terse word over the slipper that he has been chewing on while I was out.

I call my family out and we pass by the pup unmolested, and the dream ends with us letting ourselves out of the building.

Aside from the fact that I had the same dream two nights in a row, it was hardly remarkable. And what I thought about as I shaved this morning no more so, but nevertheless here it is: That when confronted straight-on rather than surrendered to or evaded, the Hobgoblins of the mind tend to undo themselves on their own, be far weaker than they appear and are subservient to the authority of reason.