Yesterday was the anniversary of the launching of Sputnik 2, which carried Laika, the first space dog, into orbit in 1957.
I was always fascinated by Laika for some reason. When I was young, all I heard was that the dog had died. It was much later before I became aware that was the intent all along.
And a terrible, terrifying way to go, too. I oughtn’t get too worked up about it, as a happy meat-eater, but it always seemed that the Soviets expected that all they needed to win the Cold War was to be more ruthless than anyone else.
Like their actions in Hungary a year earlier on the same date.