As you may have heard a bat with an injured wing was clinging to the external fuel tank of the space shuttle during launch.
John Herrman of Gizmodo offered this stirring eulogy;
Bereft of his ability to fly and with nowhere to go, a courageous bat climbed aboard our Discovery with stars in his weak little eyes. The launch commenced, and Spacebat trembled as his frail mammalian body was gently pushed skyward. For the last time, he felt the primal joy of flight; for the first, the indescribable feeling of ascending toward his dream—a place far away from piercing screeches and crowded caves, stretching forever into fathomless blackness.
Whether he was consumed in the exhaust flames or frozen solid in the stratosphere is of no concern to us. We know that Spacebat died, but his dream will live on in all of us.
Let me conclude by saying "Good-night, Spacebat; And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest."