minutia_r

I forgot to post this earlier, sorry, and it's not exactly from a dog's perspective, but close to that?

Anyway, Laika:


You don't bite
the hands that feed you
A dog's first lesson,
learnt even on the streets of Moscow

Those hands that bring you inside,
wash you and pet you,
that brush the mats out of your fur
The hands that love you

They fit you in a suit
meant for space travel
When you haven't even been outside of the city

They teach you other lessons:
to eat jelly, and live in a tiny cage,
to tolerate loud noises

All for your very important mission, they say,
to be the first dog in space

Decades later
little girls will look up to the sky
and think of you

Imagining your little spaceship
they saw on a stamp

Will they know you never returned?