Ireland – Emmy – Laika Party

There’s a website called “Does the dog die?” which, as the name suggests, tells you whether or not dogs die in popular forms of entertainment. It’s really useful if you don’t want to be watching a film or television show and suddenly get walloped by the unexpected trauma of a dog’s death.

And yes, I realise that some people might say, “Oh you’re all babies and snowflakes who are just avoiding the hard things in life.” But you know what? Life is ALREADY hard. I refer you to the three cancer songs we have this year! (And when I was looking up the statistics on cancer risk after writing that sentence, the NHS is telling me that 1 out of every 2 people will develop cancer during their lifetime! )

Many of us just want to sit down at the end of the day and seek a moment of escape from all of these worries (Cancer is just one of them! I am not even going to talk about what’s going on with retirement accounts right now, because if I do survive the cancer I’m likely to get, I no longer have any money to retire on, and will need to continue working until I fall into a combine harvester and get chewed up by the maw of this unforgiving machine! And why would an elderly cancer survivor be working in a job that requires exposure to a combine harvester? The future is BLEAK, my friends!)

So when we sit down to enjoy a piece of entertainment and unwind at the end of the day, there is no shame in wanting something comfortable. Something that’s going to bring solace and joy. Something that’s going to reliably release that sweet, sweet dopamine. Most of the time, Eurovision is that thing for us.

But this year, Ireland – with absolutely no trigger warning – is ruining that sense of escapism by sending a song that reminds all of us of the time that the Soviet Union sent a dog into space to bake to death in a rocket cockpit.

Look, I get that in her song, Emmy hopes that Laika lives, and that she’s having fun in space. And I am guessing that someone at a songwriting camp noticed the similarities between the phrase “Like a party” and “Laika party” and reverse-engineered the song.

But what Emmy didn’t take into account was that a lot of us already knew the story of Laika, and how she overheated in a space capsule, and was really uncomfortable for a lot of the flight. Remember all those public service announcements where animal welfare organisations warn you not to leave your dog in your car on a hot day? That’s exactly what the Soviet space scientists did to Laika, a street dog from Moscow who thought she had been rescued.

Is this a story I like to think about? No. Do I think of this story on a daily basis? No. Do I think about this story when someone brings up Laika absolutely unprompted as part of a Eurovision song and says “Wow, I hope she’s still alive?” Yes! I kind of have to at that point, regardless of whether I want to or not!

Emmy could be the best performer in the world and nothing could make me like this song, because the instant I hear it, I’m automatically and involuntarily thinking about a dog that died a painful, lonely death. And I am doing this at the place which is supposed to be my Disneyworld, the Happiest Place on Earth, Eurovision.

I’m not trying to erase history here. I do think Eurovision is a place we should be able to discuss serious subjects – like cancer! Or the treatment of Crimean Tartars! Or the inability of the Serbian government to provide its citizens with health insurance! But when the opening notes of a high BPM Nordic-sounding dance track come on, complete with TikTok-style vocals, only to turn out to be a song about a dead dog that is never coming back, it kind of kills the mood without any warning.

As much as Emmy wants to create an alternate history, she can’t change what we already know. This banger is a downer, and the last thing we need in 2025, let alone at Eurovision.