Dream journal -- not the fun kind

I was a sort of cross between Dr. Xavier and Dr. Doolittle: my superpower was animal communication, and I and an assistant ran an academy teaching animals to function in the human world. And something went terribly wrong: the animals were placing more and more demands on me, and getting nasty, and I concluded that the whole thing had to be brought to an end. In the dramatic denouement, I was at somebody else's house, arguing with a frog who had been a good friend of mine, and eventually I stepped on him with my shoe and squashed him against the floor. Then I went into the kitchen where there was another talking animal (a mid-sized mammal, a raccoon or wolverine or something like that), I grabbed a steak knife out of the drawer and stabbed him with it, getting blood all over the floor. Then I opened the front door and ran, with no particular destination in mind but just wanting to put miles between all this and me.