It’s amazing how a negative encounter with a new neighbor, a long romance drought, and the Fox News Channel left on overnight can combine into one hell of a weird dream. I would prefer Donald Trump stay the heck out of my nocturnal hookups, but we don’t control such things. The subconscious writes the script.

I’ll get to this bittersweet dream, but first the setup. Along with my own new rescue dog, Gabriel, I’m fostering a second older dog whose owner suffers from that cruel disease, Schizophrenia. Off his medications, an incident landed him in jail and landed his old dog at the shelter, lonely and depressed.

The sweet Australian Shepherd with an unsightly skin disease rendered me helpless to refuse when the man’s daughter called in desperation for a temporary home. Now a month later, I’ve naturally become attached, but was in no way in the market for a second, special-needs dog. She soon warmed up to my couch and gets along fine with Gabe and the cats, but she eats like a horse and poops like a cow. My food bill and pooper-scooper duties have tripled.

So one Sunday morning I let Gabe out by himself while I got ready. I often do this since he always waits patiently in a townhouse neighbor’s yard of his choice. But my new girl had also earlier snuck out unattended for a few minutes.

As I rousted Gabe from his lawn lounge next door, the young guy a foot taller than me was compelled to get some things off his chest, punctuated by pointing out a “pile” I hadn’t noticed. Angry that he was angry, I never bothered explaining the perpetrator wasn’t Gabe, but the new foster dog. My best border collie buddy has never defiled a lawn in the four months he’s graced my life.

There’s your setup; now the dream — It all began at a little bar I’m pretty sure was the Tic Toc Lounge where I drank frequently in the late ’70s. It’s now the Hong Kong Chinese Restaurant, but dreams often unfold retroactively.

From afar, I noticed a gorgeous girl smiling at a clever thing I said, (I’m uncharacteristically clever and charming in my dreams). I tested it with a second witty remark and that same inviting smile appeared. When she dazzled me with a few jokes of her own and I said to myself, “Wow, I think I’ve finally found someone with whom I could be compatible.” Sure enough, I soon realized this gal “gets me.”

Soon we were a steady item and she was about to move in with me. It wasn’t my townhouse, but a house on a hill, somewhere near Wal-Mart. (I must caution, the next dream sequence is somewhat graphic, so I’d recommend the squeamish read on an empty stomach). A terrible stench suddenly assaulted my senses, and I realized there were dog feces not only throughout my home, but covering the street in front of my house.

A nasty, homely woman next door who resembled the villainess “Frau,” Dr. Evil’s Girl Friday on “Austin Powers,” knocked on the door. She seemed to hate me and declared her intentions to have me evicted. With love on my side, I thought this crusty broad cannot defeat me, but when she said she had recruited Donald Trump to help ruin me, I began to panic. My new gal and I turned on the TV and watched “the Donald” bashing me into national shame.

Now more and more folks were joining this crusade against me — even those who had formerly vowed their allegiance. (I’m assuming my background TV had just announced Chris Christie was backing Trump). I felt persecuted and under attack, so went to my elderly friend Charlie for a loan to finance a massive cleanup. He agreed to help me out, but it would have to be in gold rather than cash, (again I assume this was prompted by another Fox commercial for Rosland Capital. I hate that William Devane guy)!

This disturbing dream ended with huge trucks moving in to plow the offending waste from the street, with protestors everywhere demanding my eviction and my new girlfriend giving me an ominous, “I’m out of here” look. I awoke with a lurch when one of my four cats jumped onto my stomach from the back of the couch.

I believe dreams are a precursor of things to come, so I expect to be dating again soon. Most likely I’ll meet my “dream girl” who will move in with me, but once she gets a whiff of the place, will give me an ultimatum: “Either the pets go or I go.” Sadly, I’ll be helping her pack and singing “Alone Again, Naturally.”