Having my way with Ulysses

For riches for poor, in sickness in health, till death us two part, from this to this day forward.

Well, then, why do you make it a reproach against the others that they are silent, and remain silent yourself? Easy to answer; Because I am a dog; in essentials just as locked in silence as the others, stubbornly resisting my own questions, dour out of fear. To be precise, is it in the hope that they might answer me that I have questioned my fellow dogs, at least since my adult years?

8:19 pm

I know what I want and I’m not afraid to wait for it, although he better hurry up and get here soon!  I want a real man with a strong face.  He can be older than me, hair a little flecked with grey like that pervy guy sitting over there, and he’ll get me, you know?  He’ll be able to just look at me and just know, you know?  And we’ll move in together some place where I can decorate everything so it is exactly perfect, and I’ll bake things and make food for him, but I don’t want him to see me like actually eating because gross.  We’ll eat salads made of flowers and our house will be full of cool furniture and art and we’ll have a framed picture of Grandpa Giltrap’s dog Garryowen who, like, talks!  You should hear him.  It’s like he thinks he’s a person or something.  And my man will be tall, and have broad shoulders, and nice teeth white, but not neon glowing white or be like Captain Veneers or something.  And every morning before he goes off to work and I stay home to be a fashion designer he’ll give me a big hug and gaze into my eyes.  He’ll be perfect, you know?  Like I don’t want to end up with a total douche.

The canine original, which recalls the intricate alliterative and isosyllabic rules of the Welsh englyn.

Claddwyd Cilhart celvydd, ymlyniad / Y’mlaenau Eivionydd; / Parod ginio I’w gynydd. / Parai’r dydd, yr heliai Hydd! (Buried here is skilled Cilhart, with affection throughout Eifionydd. Ready to increase dinner, would like this day some salted stag!)5:26 pm
 
A master of Cyanthropy (Christ’s crutch!)
Call me Owen Garry.
Your leg looks fine for a pee;
First water as I’m thirsty.
 
 
 

The bloody mongrel let a grouse out of him would give you the creeps.

His eyes are bloodred; greasy, black, his beard; his belly bulges, and his hands are claws; his talons tear and flay and rend the shades.5:06 pm

Arrgh I saw it all and played my part in it too. I’ll tell you but you won’t look my way except to complain about my noises and let’s look at the truth now, my smell. But I’ll tell it anyway just so I have my say. I was lying on the floor next to my person as always, passing the time with him and waiting for what the sky would drop in the way of food. Well in walked a couple of em both I’d like to take a good bite of but I waited for the signal you understand. One of them came out with money for beer talking about he got it on a tip from some prudent member I heard him say. Give me a minute. Scratch. Aye. Damn I could sleep. What do you want? You don’t smell like you have much on you. Where was I? One of them saw the guy in the market looking at the fish. And believe me, I smelled him coming a mile away. Look I’ll say more but you’re not listening to me, I smell you. I smell biscuits too. They yours? You don’t care. All eyes on the citizen. Well, I’d keep an eye on me if I were you; I’m getting hungry.