A bit of foreground to put this dream into context. About three days before, I had just adopted a dog, a border collie, from the pound. I was having trouble coming up with a good name. The best I had at that point was "Blackjack". My girlfriend at the time, Jenny, suggested the name "Roswell". She was into alien stuff to a certain extent, and there had been a lot of publicity about the 50th anniversary of the Roswell "incident". Well, sorry Jen, but that was even worse than anything I had come up with. Frustrated, I was on the verge of condemning the poor dog to the name "Blackjack."

All I remember was that I was trapped somehow, but the features of what imprisoned me were indistinct. I tried to find a way to escape, but I couldn't. Suddenly a figure stood in front of me. He was tall and thin and very pale. He had fairly long black hair and dark brown, piercing eyes. He was wearing a white button up shirt and a long black trench coat. I realized that I was no longer imprisoned, and I knew it was because this person had helped me. I was very grateful and took his hand to shake it. Then he told me his name was Angus Diablo MacTavish, and looked deeply into my eyes. I felt very safe. As I awoke, the image of his gaze was still fresh in my mind, and I found that my new dog was sitting at the edge of the bed, about eight inches away. He was staring at me, and his eyes were in the exact position that the entity's eyes had been.
"Angus," I said to the dog, and he licked my face.

That's how Angus got his name.