At the gate of the bronze-walled palace of Phaeacia, two dogs cast in gold and silver. The work of a god. They do not breathe. They do not bark. They do not need to be fed. They simply stand and watch, forever, on either side of the burnished posts. Odysseus stops on the threshold when he sees them. He has just crawled half-dead from the sea and now he is standing in a place where craftsmen are welded to the work of immortals and the very dogs are made of metal that does not tarnish. Phaeacia is not quite of this world. The dogs are the first sign.
The Golden and Silver Guard Dogs
Two dogs cast in gold and silver flanking the threshold of Alcinous's palace. Tireless. They never sleep. They never need to.