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Hail Laika, unknowing angel, full of trust.
Your body would never come back to us, ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Yet your soul bound to the void, the final frontier’s church grim.
Hail Laika, patron saint of one-way trips, of suicide missions,
Pray for Grace now and at the hour of our apocalypse.
The stars your streetlamps--
You were a mutt of Moscow, after all,
Even before the Masters took you home. Where else
Would you return to but a black street with immense lights?
You whimper, tail between legs, the comet you’re chasing lost.
This streetlamp, the one that warmed you back home, like a familiar furnace
And warm human hands
And joyous cries from small voices
It dims.
You don’t understand why, but the Masters must know
You bark, and your voice echoes through the vacuum
No ear will hear it.
When you see the ship rushing away from Earth, you perk up.
Chase!
Chase, Laika, chase.
It drives so fast, fast beyond what you remember.
With equipment vaguely familiar yet so alien--
When you look inside, it is more than the small capsule
The Masters put you inside, your final home, your grave.
Stay, Laika.
Three humans.
They must have been told to stay.
Stay. Good humans. Lay down. Sleep. Good humans.
Whine, whine, two humans sleep, not right.
Not good sleep. They are ashes to ashes
Dust to dust. Bad sleep. Like your sleep
That took you to the stardust and planets and comets
(I commend your body to the stars)
The two humans in bad sleep
They are like you, forever bound to the void.
One says, I wanted to die for humanity, but not like this!
Oh well. I am in good company, yes, Kudryavka?
Wag, wag, wag! You have not heard that name in so long!
Is she one of the Masters?
Other human, no smile, bad?
The Masters were so serious
As they put you into that little room
But he nods to you.
Take care of him. And thank you, little one.
Head cock left, cock right. Thank you? Take care of him?
Oh!
Third human isn’t dust. Wag, wag, wag.
Sniff, sniff, yes, yes, good.
Good human. Good sleep. Stay. I watch, I watch, I watch.
You lie at his feet like a good girl. Good dog, Laika.
(You sleep. I observe)
The Hail Mary, ship of Grace, Laika is with thee.
Blessed be thy mind, who will bring us our rescue.
Blessed be thy body, may the ship keep thee.
Blessed be thy soul, thou who sacrificed to save us.