My Friend Bob And His Sidekick Riley

A story that leads to so many questions

Last week, the day after it happened, I wrote about the death of my dog Cooper.

There were a lot of outpourings of sympathy from friends old and new. I truly appreciate everyone’s kind thoughts and words.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

A couple of years ago I got to meet an older gentleman who moved to my little city from the hustle and bustle of Seattle. An older gentleman named Bob. He decided that he wanted to join our little Masonic Lodge, and I was appointed to show him the ropes.

From that, a good friendship has resulted. Bob is a super interesting guy, with a wonderful wife, and oh boy, he’s got stories!

You see, Bob and his wife are adventurers. Not adventurers in the ‘go to REI, buy a bunch of fancy equipment, and go backpacking for the weekend’ style. No, think more like buy a hundred year old airplane, restore it, and fly it all the way around the world style adventures. Get a classic car from the 1950’s and go on a road trip from Alaska to Cabo San Lucas sort of things.

So Bob’s got stories. Stories that maybe you might think were embellished if told by someone else. But with Bob’s stories, you know they aren’t embellished because you can go look at the airplane. Actually see the stuff he has done.

So, Bob stopped by my house a day or two after Cooper died. With a care package for my wife and I.

I’m a little ashamed that I didn’t greet him at the door, but I had been wallowing in sorrow and self pity, so hadn’t showered, and in all honesty, hadn’t put on pants yet that day. So Melinda opened the door and chatted with my friend Bob. (Trust me, you really don’t want to see me without pants.)

In the care package from Bob was a book that he had written about his dog, named Riley.

Now I knew that Bob had done all kinds of maybe crazy things in his life, but I didn’t know that he’d written a book. Nor did I know that he had a dog.

It’s a short and sweet little book. I read it in a single sitting, and enjoyed it very much. I’d tell you where to get a copy for yourself, but I’ve been unable to find it online, and I get the impression that Bob published it only for himself.

It’s about Riley. How Bob met him, and how Riley became Bob’s dog.

In the book you see, Riley talks, Bob and Riley discuss things together. The book is less about Riley, more about Bob telling Riley some of the things he’s done, adventures he’s had, and things he’s witnessed.

As I was reading the book, I realized that Bob and I communicate through text. We see each other down at the Lodge. And Bob comes over to my house from time to time. But, I’ve never been over to Bob’s place. I know that he lives in my old neighborhood, but I’m not sure exactly where.

And reading Bob’s book about Riley leads to so many questions.

Is Riley real, or is Riley a literary device? Bob’s never told me about his dog before.

The way Bob met Riley is interesting, and how Riley became Bob’s dog even more so, well outside of what one could expect. That adds fuel to the question above.

Then there’s the question of time. Assuming that Riley is real, is he with Bob still, or did Riley pass away at some point in the past?

I just don’t know.

I’m certain that all these questions will be answered for me soon after this essay is published, but as of this afternoon, I’m left wondering.

I find that a truly interesting, but personal, facet of the story told to me in Bob’s book. It leaves me with a myriad of questions, no answers. If one didn’t know the author these questions wouldn’t arise. But, I do, so they have.

And that leads to all sorts of thoughts about the relationship between writer and reader. We will never have an opportunity to meet and get to know most of the writers we read. How different would our perspective on their work be if we did? Do we easily accept as fact, or fiction, things that we would see differently if we knew the author of the work? Certainly if I didn’t know Bob, none of my questions about Riley would have come to mind.

Bob’s book about Riley was probably the perfect medicine to help me pull myself out of my sorrow. At least for a time. I can’t grieve over my loss while my mind is trying to figure out if Bob and Riley really are a thing.

So, thank you Bob. I look forward to meeting in life the dog I met through your words. Unless of course he is a literary device, in which case I’ll have to get you one of those ‘invisible dog’ leashes that they sold at the carnival when I was a kid!