Pluto Is Not Just a Dog

When that Atlas Five rocket took off over my Florida neighborhood some years ago, headed for Pluto and the edge of the solor system, it took me back to an August evening in Oklahoma circa the mid-1930's, before rockets, television or even home air conditioning.

Back then and there it was good to have access to a screened in porch where, safe from mosquitos and chiggers, neighbors could gather, sip iced drinks, catch a breeze, talk even and watch the stars come out.

On one such evening when I was a precocious eight-year-old I learned that adults could be both fallible and unfair. Even my parents.

Someone said: "That's the evening star. It's really a planet. How many planets are there?"

"Eight, I think."

"No, there are nine," I said brightly. I was ignored.

"What are their names? Let's see. Mercury is first, closest to the sun. Venus, then Mars."

"Don't forget earth. Earth's just one of the planets."

"Saturn, Jupiter and Neptune. That's seven." There was a brief pause, then a mildly scatological discussion on how to pronounce Uranus."

"That makes the eight," my Dad announced. I missed the note of satisfied finality in his voice.

"No, there are nine," I insisted. "You forgot Pluto. There was a chorus of condescending chuckles.

"Pluto is the name of a dog!" my father said scornfully.

"I was stung. "Pluto is also the name of the Greek god of the underworld," I cried.

"Brucie, that's enough!" I my mother said sharply.

"And a planet, too. I read about it in Mr Staudt's 'National Geographic' And don't call me "Brucie!'

"I said, 'that's enough!' Go in the house!"

Dismissed, I raced home in tears, forgetting even my sweetened lemonade. Pluto and I were in the doghouse banished from treasured moments in adult company.

But vindication, which came the next evening was even sweeter. Mr Staudt, bless him, was my father's boss and he readily confirmed my account, only noting that it was a Roman god that presided over the terminus of the River Styx. My father, bless him, formally apologized.

Now some six plus decades later, NASA itself agrees with me. Not only is Pluto out there at the far frigid edge of the solar system, but it's worth knowing about and going to.

Now it seems that scientists insist that Pluto is not a real planet, but I'm not persuaded. I've known better for too long a time.