Argus

Outside the palace, I stood there; I spotted a dog lying on a pile of dung. My dog, as I left him when I went away for war. Old and treated as rubbish he laid there and I wish to go to him, but I cannot for risk of being found out. My dog, my companion lay there in pain and I must watch him wither. I speak and as he hears my voice, he struggles to wag his tail and point his nose. The dog I left behind had no strength to move toward me. My dog can finally rest easy now that he knows that I am safe and will be happy. As I turn away I wipe a salt tear from my cheek hiding it from Eumaeus.
          "I marvel that they leave this hound to lie here on the dung pile; he would have been a fine dog, form the look of him, I can't say as to his power and speed when he was young." I say to Eumaeus. 
He replies, "A hunter owned him but the man is dead in some far place.  If this old hound could show the form he had when Lord Odysseus left him, going to Troy, you'd see him swift and strong. He never shrank from any savage thing he'd brought to bay in the deep woods; on the sent no other dog kept up with him. Now misery has him in leash. His owner died abroad, and here the women salves will take no care of him. You know how servants are: without a master they have no will to labor, or excel. For Zeus who views the wide, into the death and darkness that awaits, that instant Argus closes his eyes and after seeing his master, he dies. And I walk foward, ready to face the Suitors, to get my revenge...

      “World takes away half the manhood of a man that day, he goes into captivity and slavery."
      As we walk away, toward the death and darkness waiting for us, my dog closes his eyes and dies. And I keep walking, ready to face the suitors and my revenge that is sure to follow...