Warning - These dreams often make little sense. Trying to understand them can cause socket damage.
Last night, I dreamt of a relatively small city-town, a cross between the Paris in Aristocats and the city of Lady and the Tramp.
..Only, deep at night, with the streets dimly lit by lamp posts and the occasional kindle escaping a window. No one was awake aside from two dogs.
The stocky hound was sniffing around the city, closely followed by his taller, ganglier friend. Together they discreetly searched the streets for clues. Recently, a good handful of crimes had been committed by a mysterious, unknown dog, and these two were out looking for a lead.
The hound kept reassuring his friend that he'd find something, while his buddy quietly insisted on hopelessness. After a great deal of searching benches, tables, posts, and dumpsters, the taller dog absentmindedly said "Maybe he doesn't shed."
Abruptly halted by the thought, the hound turned to his friend slowly with a grim discernment. "He doesn't shed," he said, shocked, and gradually sat down to take it all in. "He doesn't shed."