Nova

Carl and I were asked and agreed to be the godparents of a dog named Nova. Nearly three years later, Nova has gone missing. She was on her usual walk with her human, and after a very loud gunshot, Nova ran. She hasn’t been seen since and I am in the midst of obsession, trying to will her home, even as Arctic cold and snow barrel toward us.

I know there are myriad forms of ongoing hell currently in this world, all human-caused. But being able to identify a wrong, one taking place in my own backyard, is a gift. Because it means I can focus all the grief and pain and outrage in my heart onto one dear, sweet, pure-goodness dog. It means that I can join a community of people who also believe that the world should be kinder. Less greedy. More willing to take the time to walk and hum and sing to Nova in the woods, along the roads of Dublin, NH. All in the belief that it will make a difference.

Border Collies respond to the thoughts of their owners. That’s how they learn and live: keyed in on their human pets, so that the dog and the human can work together to keep the flocks safe, and guide them home.

As I walked and sang to Nova, Dear Nova, I knew she wouldn’t come to me. She is scared. But maybe by singing to Nova, Dear Nova, where are you Dear Nova, I might send a sound wave that trickles through the atmosphere to her, assuring her that she is loved. That there is good beyond the cold, harsh world she is experiencing. Maybe she will dare to take some steps toward her home. She knows where it is. She can overcome her fear of gunshots. Terror. Trauma.

And the question remains: Will she come home? Can she?

And then the guilt follows because if I say “home,” will she hear it as her home or mine? Coming here, she’d be more likely to get lost. So I clarify my thoughts as I send out energy to Nova. Go home… but that sounds unfriendly and so I think without words. I envision her safe and home with her human.

I think the reason it still hurts so much—now three weeks into the disappearance of Nova, a dog with whom I have had only a small degree of interaction—is that it brings up shadowy feelings of years ago, when I was at boarding school wishing, for months and then years, for home. And I am still baffled how it could be that something I wanted so deeply and painfully and logically… how could it not happen?

The silence is deafening.

But still, every morning, I beg the energy of the world to bring Nova home to her human. If only Nova would come home, then—what a glorious thought—maybe peace might be possible as we rocket toward the Winter Solstice and the new year.