On top of that, multiple songs have paid tribute to her twin role as a pioneer and as a martyr, and often express hope that she will magically return. The final verse of “Laika” by Chicago rock band Kill Hannah, for example, goes, “I know how alone you feel so far away/ While they pretend to remember you/ Laika, I’ll make you proud/ Is Laika coming home? Laika, please come home.”
That “please come home” sentiment has been repeated by multiple artists and writers across a wide range of platforms. When fans were bummed out by her death in Nick Abadzis’ graphic novel Laika, Abadzis wrote an alternate ending that had her morphing into a superpowerful being called Cosmodog, hellbent on revenge against the scientist who sent her to space to die.
The fact that Laika can still inspire this palpable desire for revisionist wish-fulfillment 57 years after her death speaks volumes about her continued relevance as an ideological lightning rod. Dogs are the undisputed champions of loyalty and love, and it will always be painful to accept that Laika’s blind trust in her masters was betrayed.
At the same time, reaching the Moon is the most spectacular achievement in human history, and it would likely never have been done without sacrificing the lives of dozens of animal and human astronauts alike. The fact that a humble stray dog continues to emblematize this struggle is simultaneously heartbreaking and heartwarming.
Laika will never come home. But the dreams, idea, and controversies she inspired are here to stay