Flip - June 1971 (typed by Carol R.)
The Day I Lost Dopey
Whenever you think of Bobby Sherman, you almost have to think of Dopey, his floppy-eared, tail-wagging best friend. Except when Bobby was working or on tour, the cheerful little hound went everywhere with him. The two were happily nuts about each other.
But now Dopey is gone.
It happened the Friday after the earthquake struck Los Angeles. Bobby was in Dallas for a concert and, as always when he went away, he left Dopey with his mother. It happened that that morning a group of fans came to the door to talk to Mrs. Sherman. Many of Bobby's fans know where she lives, and she's always very friendly when girls ring her doorbell.
But this morning when Mrs. Sherman opened the door for her visitors, a playful Dopey slipped around it before she could stop him, ran through the girls standing on the doorstep, and out into the street, where he was hit by a speeding car and killed instantly.
Mrs. Sherman telephoned Bobby in Dallas with the sad news, and Bobby was so upset that he found he couldn't even tell anyone what had happened. He knew if he did, people would be sympathetic, and Bobby knew he couldn't accept even sympathy yet - the shock was too new. So, when his fans at the concert that night asked him (as you always do) "How's Dopey?", he murmured, "Fine, fine," because he just couldn't tell the truth through the lump in his throat. His only comfort just now is the thought that Dopey died instantly - he didn't suffer.
Bobby will still have dogs in his life - his mother's dog, Silly, and his manager's dog, Dummy - but he probably won't get another dog of his own for a while, until his sadness lets up a bit.
You might want to drop Bobby a note about Dopey. It would make him feel a little better to know that you are thinking about him and his beloved little dog.