by Albo P Fossa ✍ July 19th, 2015
Dog Days. The Dog Star, Sirius (no, not Pluto) pops up near sunrise starting July 3. By that standard, Dog Days are here. Other reckonings: rest your dogs until later into July. Sit.
Pluto? The image of Pluto has been seen on Pluto. (Like Elvis seen in a soap suds pattern? No, I guess not…) Pluto’s photos brought welcome cheer to Dog Days, though.
Gee, maybe we should name the other planets after cartoon characters, too. Mercury? Meep, meep—Road Runner. Venus? Betty Boop-oopeedoop. Mars? Marvin the Martian? No: Tasmanian dust Devil.
Jupiter? Popeye. Saturn? Wimpy’s hamburger. Uranus? Snoopy’s doghouse. And Neptune? Eye see you, Wile. E. Coyote.
And what’ll we name that thing in the Kuiper Belt as big as, or bigger than, Pluto? (Elmer: “Come back heeuh you kwazy pwanets.”)
Earth? A rough row to hoe. Goofey. By now there’s twenty-some Presidential candidates dogging us for attention. Some Daffy Ducks, including a Donald, Ducking questions. Maybe a Brutus, some chipmunks, a Porky Pig, a magpie. A Scooby Doo, “roobeeroobeeroo”. Lots of birdbrains and pointers. Dogs. Few from this planet.
Dog Days end in August (or maybe September). (That is to say, weatherwise, though that other hot air will go on.) And our Mickey Mouse sun will still shine among stars. Still smiling, while we’ve been so Sirius.
“What’s up, Doc?”