Gone to the Dogs

 

  Gone to the Dogs

The Homer who wrote the Iliad did not care much for dogs and most often associated them with death, destruction and sacrilege. References to dogs often appear in formulaic phrases that describe the horrible fate of the unburied dead on the battlefield and are common in a recurring motif of death and decay. We find such a reference at the very beginning of the Iliad.

Let wrath be your song O Goddess! Sing of the accursed rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, which brought untold woes to the Achaeans and banished to Hades many stalwart souls of heroes, turning them into carrion for dogs and birds of prey, thereby bringing to final fulfillment the plan of Zeus.

Indeed, the most prominent role that dogs play in the Iliad is that of the wild scavenger feasting on the unburied bodies of the fallen. In the words of the goddess Athena, For certain some one of the Trojans will fill the bellies of the dogs and the birds with his fat and his flesh when he falls at the ships of the Achaeans. For the ancient Greeks, a proper burial was essential for a soul to be able to pass into Hades, guarded by Erebus the hateful dog of the underworld. To have one’s corpse mauled and desecrated by wild dogs was considered a fate worse than death itself.

Another link between dogs and death is found in Homer’s description of the plague that struck the Achaean camp when he tells us that the first victims of the pestilence were the mules and the dogs. Agamemnon also warns those who linger by the ships and are reluctant to fight bravely that things will not turn out well for them.

But to those who wish to remain apart from the fighting and linger near the curved-hull ships, I declare that you will not escape from becoming carrion for the dogs and the birds of prey.

When he saw him, the stout brave son of Menoetius had pity on him and lamenting, he spoke to him with winged words. O you cowards, leaders and lords of the Danaans, so you were destined, far from your dear ones and native land, to satiate the swift dogs of Troy with your gleaming fat.

Homer also uses references to dogs to cast aspersions on various people. Comparing a person to a dog was a powerful insult that most often signified shamelessness and cowardice and less often referred to a person’s physical prowess or temperament. An example of the latter was when Teucer, the son of Telamon, advised Agamemnon that he was having trouble striking Hector with his arrows. I have let go eight long-pointed arrows and all of them have entered the bodies of warlike and vigorous men, but I am not skilful enough to throw an arrow into this raging dog. But most often, as indicated, calling someone a dog was considered a huge insult, as when Iris told Hera,  But you are a most horrible and fearful dog, if you dare raise a mighty lance against Zeus. On several occasions, Hera herself refers to Aphrodite as a dog-fly and calls Artemis a shameless bitch of a dog. The Achaeans were referred to as those dogs fallen upon us by fate. Achilles compares Agamemnon to a dog in his perceived cowardice and shame. He wouldn’t dare look me in the eye though he has the face of a dog. Even Helen, when she is distraught with remorse over her actions and the devastation that she has caused, calls herself a bitch. As he is about to slay Hector, Achilles calls him a dog, the worst insult imaginable.

In the Iliad Homer many refers to dogs in many hunting scenes or in the protection of flocks from wild beasts, but we never witness him talking about dogs as loyal and friendly human companions. He describes dogs acting in hunting and guarding capacities exactly how we would expect them to behave, but we find no dogs with personality or individuality or a real presence in the narrative and in most cases, any references made to dogs is either as part of a formulaic phrase or as a symbolic insult. Rushing after him with his spear, the mighty Diomedes shouted to him. Like a barking dog you run away from death though great evil came near to you. There is one slight reference to dogs being kept as companions as we note the actions of Achilles as he prepares the body of Patroclus for burial. The prince had nine dogs that fed at his table and he cut the throats of two of them and cast them on the pyre.

In his conversation with Achilles in the camp of the Achaeans, King Priam summarizes perfectly Homer’s thoughts about dogs. Priam describes domestic dogs behaving in a manner similar to wild ones and this is even a more disturbing image. His words are typical of the comments made about dogs throughout the Iliad and we know for certain that they were animals not held in high regard by the bard.

Finally me, at the entrance to my home, will ravenous dogs tear my flesh after some man has taken the life from my limbs with his sharp bronze, those very dogs who fed at my table and who I raised in my house to guard my doors, who after sating themselves with my blood in the madness of their hearts, will lie down and rest in that very doorway. It is only right that a young man, who is killed in battle and lies there cut up by the sharp bronze, though he is dead, is honourable to behold. But when dogs go to work and disfigure the grey head and beard and the body of an old man who has been slain, then this is the most piteous thing that can ever happen to wretched mortals.

            But the Homer who wrote the Odyssey had a different mindset about dogs entirely. There are a few of the usual references to the ignominy that the unburied experience, like when Nestor tells Telemachus what would have happened to Aegisthus if Menelaus had come home and discovered his brother’s murderer close at hand.

You can guess yourself what would have happened if the fair-haired Menelaus, the son of Atreus, had come home from Troy and found Aegisthus alive in the palace. For not even in death would they have erected a funeral barrow for him, for the dogs and the birds of prey would have torn him apart and devoured him as he lay in the plain apart from the city and the Achaean women would not have lamented his death for such was the scope of the evil deed that he had planned. We did our part over there in Troy, carrying out our many deeds, but he lazed about in a corner of horse-grazing Argos, making a play with pretty words for the wife of Agamemnon.

His murderous companion Clytemnestra is treated in a similar insulting fashion.

It is true that there is no woman who is more shameless or dog-like than one who takes it into her heart to do such deeds, even as she determined in her heart to plan death for her own wedded husband.

Certainly dogs are sometimes used as insults in the Odyssey, as when Hephaestus refers to his unfaithful wife Aphrodite as a dog-eyed girl, but in the main, dogs are presented by the bard in this epic in a much more favourable light and more in keeping with how humans have come to regard these companionable beasts over time. At the home of Circe, the crew encountered a number of fierce wolves kept by the sorceress and even they acted tamely.

They did not attack my men, but wagged their long tails and fawned around them. Just like when dogs nuzzle around the top dog when he comes from a feast, because he brings them tidbits to sooth their natures, so all the wolves with sharp claws and the lions fawned around my men.

Even the savage dogs that live with the swineherd Eumaeus are tame enough to sleep at his bedside. Beside them slept four dogs, as savage as wild beasts, which the swineherd had raised, the leader of men. But we know that they are savage when they rush at Odysseus, however they are obedient to the commands of the swineherd.

All of a sudden the howling dogs caught sight of Odysseus and they rushed at him barking fiercely. But crafty Odysseus sat down and the staff fell from his hands. Then he would have been injured on his own property, had not the swineherd rushed quickly after them through the gateway with the ox-hide falling from his hands. He quickly called the dogs this way and that to himself and pelted them with stones and then addressed his master. Old man, surely those dogs would have torn you quickly to pieces and you would have poured down reproach upon me.

The same dogs welcomed Telemachus with wagging tails, a sight that we would never have witnessed in the Iliad. When Telemachus arrived, the ever-howling dogs did not bark at him but fawned over him wagging their tails. The author of the Odyssey certainly sees dogs very differently than the author of the Iliad. Just look at how the bard described the dogs when they saw Athena in disguise approach Odysseus at the palace. But Odysseus saw her as well as the dogs, but they did not bark at her, but instead were put to flight to the other side, whining and whimpering as they went.

The most poignant dog story in either epic is the story of Argos, the aged dog Odysseus who waited faithfully for his master to return home and then died in happiness when he finally arrived. The passage is worth quoting in its entirety because it is the most touching account of the love between a man and his dog.

Thus they spoke to one another and a dog that was laying there raised its head and lifted its ears, Argos the hound of the stout-hearted Odysseus, whom he had raised since it was young, but had not cared for since he had gone away to Ilios. In the old days the young lads used to take the hound hunting for wild goats and deer and rabbits, but now, with its master gone off, it just lay there neglected in the dung heap of the mules and cattle that was piled up waiting for the slaves of Odysseus to take it out and fertilize the fields with it. Argos the hound lay there, full of fleas and ticks, but when he saw Odysseus standing nearby, he wagged his tail and dropped his ears, but he did not have the strength to move any closer to his master. Then Odysseus looked aside and wiped away a tear, hiding his action from Eumaeus, and straightaway he questioned him.

“Eumaeus, it is a great marvel that this dog lays here on the manure heap for he seems to be in good shape but I do not know if he is as swift as he appears or if he is the type to just hang around the tables of men and looks good because his masters groom him well.”

Then the swineherd Eumaeus responded to him. “Truly this is the hound of a man who died in a far off land. If he were in the same shape as he was when Odysseus left him and went to Troy, his swiftness and strength would amaze you if you saw them. No animal that he chased in the depths of the woods could escape from him that he put to flight and he was very good at tracking. Now evil has beset him and his master has died far away from his homeland and women take no care of him or groom him. Slaves, when their masters are no longer in charge of things, are no longer willing to work faithfully because wide-eyed Zeus takes away half a man’s value when he is pressed into slavery.”

So he spoke and immediately went into the dwelling house and joined on with the throng of noble suitors. As for the dog Argos, the fate of a dark death overcame him on the spot, soon after he had seen Odysseus who had been gone for twenty years.

Though very old and neglected by most around him, Argos immediately recognized his master Odysseus and he showed his love and loyalty by wagging his tail and dropping his ears. He was too weak to stand and in this moment of silent recognition, the old dog passed away, happy to have seen his master for one last time. Odysseus was unable to acknowledge Argos openly because he was in disguise but he secretly shed a tear for his old companion. The scene of the meeting between man and dog has become an enduring symbol of loyalty and devotion. The dog’s unwavering loyalty, even when humans failed to recognize Odysseus, highlights the ancient Greek value of loyalty and the profound bond that existed between humans and animals in ancient Greece. For many centuries the story of Argos has been portrayed as the ideal of a dog’s unconditional love and loyalty, and many scholars see Argos as a metaphor for Odysseus. Both man and beast have been diminished, one by neglect and the other by the hardships of his voyage, but both are full of inner strength and a love for family above all.

In the Iliad, dogs are often mentioned in a dehumanizing or insulting manner or in a metaphorical way as symbols of baseness. Dogs are also used in similes or formulaic phrases to describe death and violence on the battlefield. There are a few similar references in the Odyssey, but in contrast, the later epic features the famous dog Argos who is a complex character and a powerful symbol of loyalty, love, and the passage of time. The Odyssey portrays a more lively and vivid picture of dogs, making them more like individual characters compared to the Iliad's more abstract and formulaic use of the animal. We are familiar with the dogs of the Odyssey. These are the dogs who beg scraps from our tables, curl up beside us when the television is on and sleep at the foot of our bed at night.