11/27/2025
What if, after twenty years, the only soul who still knew you… was dying on a heap of trash?
This is Odysseus, finally back on Ithaca after two decades of war and wandering. He’s not walking in like a hero. He’s wrapped in rags, disguised as a beggar, because his own palace is crawling with arrogant suitors trying to marry his wife and swallow his kingdom whole.
No one can know he’s home. Not yet.
And there, on the filthy ground, eaten alive by fleas and parasites, lies Argos.
Twenty years earlier, Argos was a puppy—the fastest, strongest hunting dog on the island. Odysseus had trained him himself, proud of every leap and every track. Then came the Trojan War. Odysseus sailed away, assuming he’d be back in a few years at most. Instead, he spent ten years at Troy, and another ten tossed across the sea by storms, monsters, and angry gods.
Argos waited.
For. Twenty. Years.
When Odysseus left, Argos was young and powerful. Now he’s impossibly old for a dog in that world, over twenty years, abandoned by the servants, thrown out to lie on a dung heap while the suitors feast inside. He has just enough strength left to lift his head.
In Book 17 of The Odyssey, Homer slows everything down for this one moment. The “beggar” walks by. Argos sees him. His ears sag, his tail begins to wag. No god whispers in his ear, no test is given. He simply knows. It’s his master.
The only living creature in Ithaca who recognizes Odysseus on sight.
But Odysseus cannot react. He can’t call his name, can’t run to him, can’t kneel down and press his forehead to that matted fur. One word, one gesture, and his disguise is shattered. The whole revenge, years in the making, would be lost.
So he does the unthinkable: he keeps walking. Pretends this dying, filthy dog is nothing to him.
Homer tells us Odysseus turns away and wipes a tear in secret, so his companion won’t notice.
And then Argos lets go.
The instant he has seen his master one last time—after holding on for two decades—his job is done. Homer ends it with a single line: “And darkness covered his eyes.”
He had waited. He had kept faith. And when that faith was finally answered, he could die.
🎨 “Odysseus and Argus” by Briton Rivière (1905)
🏛️ Manchester Art Gallery, Manchester, UK