Dog Days and Cat Naps

 

     The relentless beating of the sun has part of August remaining before the dog star that brought it follows Orion out of our skies. Sirius is the brightest star in the heavens, and he faithfully followed that relentless hunter into our night skies in early July, bringing the dog days of summer with him.

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     He worried the Greeks, as Hesiod tells us, “in the season of wearisome heat,” when “goats are plumpest and wine sweetest; women are most wanton, but men are feeblest, because Sirius parches head and knees.” Sultry—both weather and women—in their dual meanings! Did this puzzle the Greeks, when the spirit was willing and the flesh weak?

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      A different creature, Sirius was, in the southern Mediterranean. In Egypt’s early dynasties the annual rising of this same star—called Sopdet—brought with it the new year and the annual Nile flood. The goddess personifying it was the lithe Sothis and she fetched both fertility to the land and hope for the season. She was eagerly awaited by farmers and high priests alike.

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     Among ancient Polynesians, Sirius was a navigational star—na hoku ho’okele—one that guided them from island to island. In some West African religions, this star is Yoonir and its rising forecasts rain. Divining its appearance is vital to the planting calendar.

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     So, while the dog days of summer are real, as we shelter inside and take cat naps to avoid the oppressive day, many find pleasure in the dog star’s arrival. It is a brief enough presence for both: Be cheerful in momentary misery. Be guarded in transitory hope.

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​Ron Wetherington