In late 2004 and the early winter of 2005, Richard Cooley left approximately 100 voicemails on the answering machine of Patrick and Nancy Boson as the depraved dog groomer Rory Thibodeaux. Despite a majority of these voicemails being left in a state of glowing intoxication, they create a cohesive, thrilling narrative about one man’s lonely quest to wash, trim, and masturbate Henry, the Bosons’ fey and cowardly Papillon. Cooley has known the Bosons for years.
The normally unassuming Cooley, who is a high school music teacher in Lake Charles, found solace and refuge in Rory Thibodeaux, a caricature of savagery and lust, perversity and contempt, gleeful amoralism, and a nostalgic entrepreneurial spirit.
These selected voicemails have been transcribed by Mr. Cooley’s close friends in order to preserve a doubtlessly unique era in his life. With the resolve of a new year, he has decided to quit drinking “once and for all.” Naturally, this means the death of Rory Thibodeaux, who will be mourned, most of all by the Bosons. They looked forward to each new chapter of what would become a transnational, then transglobal, epic, often shooting tequila or sharing a marijuana cigarette as the recordings played back. For both the reticent Cooley and the more sociable Bosons, Thibodeaux’s misadventures served as a singular distraction from the anxieties of modern American life.