History and Mythology
The mythological Canis Minor is sometimes connected with the Teumessian Fox, a beast turned into stone with its hunter, Laelaps, by Zeus, who placed them in heaven as Canis Major (Laelaps) and Canis Minor (Teumessian Fox). Eratosthenes linked the Little Dog to Orion, while Hyginus linked the constellation with Maera, who was owned by Icarius of Athens. On discovering the latter's death, the dog and Icarius' daughter Erigone took their lives and were placed in the sky—Erigone as Virgo and Icarius as Boötes.
The Ancient Greeks called the constellation προκυων/Procyon, "coming before the dog", transliterated into Latin as Antecanis and other variations by Cicero and others. Procyon and Gomeisa were recorded as MASH-TAB-BA or "twins" in the Mesopotamian Three Stars Each tablets, dating to around 1100 BC.
Canis Minor was one of the original 48 constellations formulated by Ptolemy in his 2nd-century Almagest, in which it was defined as a specific pattern of stars. However, Ptolemy only identified two stars and hence no depiction was possible. Johann Bayer also termed it Fovea "The Pit", and Morus "Sycamine Tree". German poet and author Philippus Caesius linked it to the dog of Tobias from the Apocrypha.
Read more about this topic: Canis Minor
Famous quotes containing the words history and/or mythology:
“I am ashamed to see what a shallow village tale our so-called History is. How many times must we say Rome, and Paris, and Constantinople! What does Rome know of rat and lizard? What are Olympiads and Consulates to these neighboring systems of being? Nay, what food or experience or succor have they for the Esquimaux seal-hunter, or the Kanaka in his canoe, for the fisherman, the stevedore, the porter?”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)
“This is the frost coming out of the ground; this is Spring. It precedes the green and flowery spring, as mythology precedes regular poetry. I know of nothing more purgative of winter fumes and indigestions. It convinces me that Earth is still in her swaddling-clothes, and stretches forth baby fingers on every side.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)