1998年，苏联政权瓦解后，负责将莱卡送入太空的科学家之一奥列格·加赞科（Oleg Gazenko）为让她死亡而表示遗憾：“Work with animals is a source of suffering to all of us. We treat them like babies who cannot speak. The more time passes, the more I’m sorry about it. We shouldn’t have done it … We did not learn enough from this mission to justify the death of the dog.”大概是说：“和动物一起工作是我们所有人痛苦的来源。我们像对待不会说话的婴儿一样对待他们。时间越久，对此我就越感到抱歉。我们不应该这样做……我们从这次任务中学到的无法衡量狗的生命。”
On November 3, 1957, a Moscow street dog named Laika was launched into outer space and became the first living creature to orbit the Earth. She was never expected to survive the trip, and history tells us that she died within hours of take-off.
Laika has a different story to tell...
someday you will remember.
someday my name will catch in your throat and you will begin to miss what you never really had.
you never knew what you let go so easily. you never do.
i see the way your eyes look past me into the hugeness that awaits. i know it matters most of all.
this street bound life of mine you took you think it's an even exchange for a legendary death in service to the great expansion.
but you don't really know anything about it. you have no idea.
those streets follow me where ever i go they are here in the vastness because my feet keep walking, even weightless.
those streets are home to my wildness beyond any lock and key that you trust for comfort against the cold dark night.
those streets are where the stars are dancing even now.
i can see the dogstar thru the window. watching over me. calling me back beyond a place called home.
i have a place in the world you long to escape. i never knew lack until you began to give.
i became sacrifice to your dreams of escape from a place you never knew how to call home.
and so you have never been welcomed. never called by name.
of course all you see is empty streets and how to escape them.
loyalty is born of necessity. you never earned it, i gave it to you; my generosity that you see as birthright, as my very nature.
i am the generous one. and i do not mistake you for a god.
i can see the stars thru the window like the eyes of my pack. reminding me of those propaganda streets that knew my name.
don't pity me. don't make me a symbol for your heartbroken culture. your insane need.
after death only life remains.
my howl will keep you awake as your dreams slip from memory.
oh the falling away, oh the great space that awaits…i am known only by what i can do for them…for you
my only name is progress, my only name is onwards into the impossible future.
my name is the death that calls us all home.
dont pity me.
don't call me sacrifice upon an altar of titanium and rust.
i live beyond what you know of me, i eat the world you can't even see and it sustains me all the way home.
someday you will remember.
someday my name will catch in your throat and you will begin to give a gift you never received.