For more than the past decade, whenever I went outside to look at the stars I’d be accompanied by our Lab and Golden mix that we named Jersey Girl and called Jersey, for short. Fearless, gentle yet very protective, she added something to those excursions that can’t really be expressed. We had to let her go recently when age and illness caught up to her, but I’ll be thinking of her with every long stare at the most spectacular star there is. And, in October, that star, Sirius, headlines a glorious southern sky that is best viewed before the sun rises.

That’s right. Who says stargazing has to happen just in the evening? Early morning observing can be just as rewarding and, at least for me, it simply seems easier to get up a little earlier than to try to stay awake a little later when I’m already fighting exhaustion. Before sunup throughout October, think about starting your day with some backyard astronomy.

Views of the magnificent constellations Taurus, Orion, and Gemini and their most famous stars, Aldebaran, Betelgeuse and the twins Castor and Pollux, respectively, are not to be missed. The real magic, however, is further south. That’s where you’ll find Canis Major, the Greater Dog, and, within it, our brightest star, Sirius, the Dog Star. It is wondrously informative.

Due to its relative closeness at 8.6 light years away, Sirius appears brighter than other stars that are much more luminous. It is about twice as massive — containing twice the amount of matter — as the sun, and is about 1.7 times larger. Quite interestingly, Sirius is really just a baby at approximately 250 million years of age. The sun has been shining for more than 4.5 billion years.

While no planets have been found near Sirius, it does have a neighbor, a white dwarf star called Sirius B that orbits its big cousin every 50 years. The dwarf is equally fascinating. Well in the past, it was the larger of the two and, as it burned up its molecular fuel, swelled into a red giant before its outer shell was discarded. It is now some 100 times smaller than the sun, but much more dense. You’ll need a large telescope under very dark skies to create the necessary visual separation to see it.

Especially now, as I connect my memories of Jersey with a celestial beauty, it seems even more heartwarming to learn that Sirius has always garnered sustained attention from so many cultures. Ancient Egyptians structured their agricultural and social calendars around the rising of this star. In Rome and Greece, Sirius’ arrival coincided with hotter temperatures. As a result, they were the first to proclaim the “dog days of summer.” In Polynesia, where Sirius was seen as a winter star, locals used it to navigate the seas. 

But, of all its roles, the one closest to home for all of us is Sirius as the head of the faithful companion to Orion, the hunter. But really, couldn’t Orion be any one of us walking somewhere with our best friend alongside? And, you know the scene. There’s always a tail wagging, always a quick detour when curiosity beckons. No, I don’t discount what any of the old civilizations saw in her but, for me, in Sirius I imagine the dependable yet carefree pet in whose company all loneliness disappears.

So, the sky will become even more inviting to me. Looking at Sirius and Canis Major will entice me to glance around in the hopes that my mind will play a few tricks and let me have another moment or two with my Jersey Girl. She made stargazing so much better. I just can’t help but think how lucky Orion surely is to have Sirius by his side for eternity!