In Memory of Angel, My Faithful Companion

– by Oliver Simões, Nov. 24, 2025

He came into my life sometime in November of 2009, on the day I happened to be making two moves at once—hauling things from my office into a storage unit and taking some items from there into my new home. It was as if I could hear my friend Larry saying, “Look, he’s following you!” When I turned around, I saw a little furry ball with two bright peepers staring at me. He was skinny and dirty, probably abandoned in that sterile place full of storage units and empty of people. I immediately adopted him (or perhaps he adopted me first), took him home, bathed him, and fed him. From that day on, he became the most loyal friend I could ever have, my filhinho (little son).

Following Larry’s tradition of giving his animals biblical names, I named my little friend Angel—and the name could not have been more fitting. He truly was a guardian angel in my life. He gave me so much unconditional love and, in many ways, made me a better person. It still feels as if his presence lingers around me, and I often talk to him to soften the void and emptiness he left behind.

I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry when I finally sat down to write this memoir, but as I type these words, I can’t help but wander through the deepest places in my heart. It is especially painful to revisit the reality of how it all happened.

Last Friday (Nov. 21), after coming back from the gym, I grabbed something to eat. As usual, Angel stood by the dinner table waiting for his treats. After eating, I took him for a walk through our gated community. We followed our usual path, pausing at the familiar spots where he liked to sniff the plants or investigate some new scent. Eventually I would gently tug his leash, and we would move on. It felt like just another regular walk. At the end, I took him to the patio near our apartment and unleashed him, as I had many times before. Everything felt routine, like a familiar script with only small variations.

Looking back now, that’s where the script ended and fate stepped in.

One of my neighbors came out with her little dog, Football, and the two of them began to play as they always did. Football liked to run in circles, inviting other dogs to join her. Angel played for a bit and then followed her as she walked indoors. He stopped halfway to inspect something under a chair. Suddenly, he jumped back and began to run. When I asked my neighbor what happened, she said her cat had been hiding under the chair. We both laughed, thinking it was nothing unusual. I watched Angel turn the corner and disappear into a darker area. I ran after him, calling his name, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I checked the gates—all closed. I asked three neighbors if they had seen him. They all said no. Panic began to take over as I wondered what could have happened.

A moment later, as I was walking back toward our apartment, still searching, a neighbor shouted, “He’s here!” When I approached, I saw him pointing toward the pond. As I turned my head, my eyes filled with terror. A profound sadness washed over me, as if the earth were breaking open beneath my feet. There was my little Angel, submerged in the water, his head downward and his hind legs floating upward.

The first night after the incident was a nightmare—I could barely sleep. The next day, my friend Marlene helped me with the burial. He’s now resting in an area near Ajo Way and Kinney Road, surrounded by trees and desert brush. Angel used to love that place. He and Jeremiah (my other dog) would go wild chasing the bunnies and other little desert creatures that lived there. Placing him somewhere he loved brought a small measure of comfort, even amid the pain.

Angel was the most loving dog. He enjoyed playing with the other small dogs in the community, and everybody adored him. One of the residents always greeted him directly. At first, I responded as if I were Angel, answering on his behalf, but eventually I stopped—hoping my neighbor would realize there was an actual human holding the leash. 😊 Angel was sweet and gentle, and he never growled at other dogs unless he sensed real danger. Larry used to call him a “tough cookie,” and I suppose he truly was. We were once attacked by a pit bull, and Angel escaped with only a small scratch, while I took the brunt of it for my loyal little friend—my companion, my world. We shared countless moments of joy together, and his presence made even the simplest routines feel special.

Angel, daddy will love you forever. Rest in peace, filhinho.

Walking Angel and Jeremiah, Apr. 10, 2012	At home in Tucson, Jul. 23, 2012
My sister Su walking the dogs, Apr. 10, 2012. Hard to believe they are all gone!	Angel and daddy, Apr. 1, 2023
Angel and daddy, Jun. 20, 2024	Last picture of Angel, Nov. 17, 2025
Above: Angel’s resting place, Nov. 22, 2025. His body was wrapped in a sheet that was given to me as a gift by my now-deceased mother. The top white rock was given by my neighbor Al as a special gift for the occasion. On it, I wrote: ANGEL ❤️ R.I.P. Pictured right: Angel and Mike in Dog Heaven. This is an AI composite created by my niece Leticia. Mike was her mom’s beloved dog, who passed at age 7.