Poem for an Image

#6: Saturday lunch

Throwback cooking: I purchased a small can of Crisco All Vegetable Shortening because I was feeling nostalgic, and I’m glad I did. My fish tasted like crispy heaven, and my cheese grits were absolutely delicious! Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

a late lunch, early dinner
after a day of work;
overtime was easy to
get, needed the distraction.

a full belly clapped in
appreciation, my legs
buckled twenty minutes
after–naptime knocked at
my temples, rest found
me in a zone.

I needed the food.
I needed the sleep.


Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.

Poem for an Image

#5: Old Faithful

The Lone Old Faithful. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

On my boss’s land, there are
Old Faithfuls resting, one
day–they’ll be restored and
re-introduced to the crazy
roads of North Carolina.

I smiled as I walked around
hours of land, taking in the
beauty of their full-bodied
presence.
Soon, there will be hands
prepping them for new life.

I stumbled upon one with
a rustic vibe–tucked neatly
in a corner of land far away
from the others.
Is this one special, I thought…

Why else would it be
given its own slice of
God’s creation, while all the
others fight for space?

Could it be The Chosen One?


Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.

In Life and In Dying

Part IV: Jernee’s final bow; a sweet girl until the end.

The burial site, getting my girl all ready for an eternal dirt rest. Video captured by Tremaine L. Loadholt
Jernee and I, during the twilight phase of her rest before the final two doses to end her life. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
A kiss and some loving while Jernee was in a peaceful sleep. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
One final kiss to send my baby off. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
Jernee Timid right before the Vet and staff proceeded with her end-of-life process. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
Jernee has not had a full night’s rest in about a month. She snored so loudly during her twilight phase of this process. I could tell it was the best sleep ever. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
While we spent our final moments with Jernee, our vet’s office staff turned the light on to this box so the other patrons/pet owners could be aware and act accordingly. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
My Center Manager’s father-in-law made this grave marker for Jernee Timid. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Jernee’s final resting place… On my Center Manager’s land, under a huge tree that gets a lot of shade. I think she will be VERY happy here. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Karen and I. She flew up for this day. She wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Our eyes are puffy because we had been crying. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
The box we buried her in. Simple. Sleek. Just the right size. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Tomorrow, I will spend some much-needed time with my mom in Greensboro, NC. It is her birthday weekend. She has mentioned I should not be worried about her, but birthdays are special to me, and I need to get out. The silence in my home is deafening, and I will have to get used to it, but… I want to live a little bit before sitting in the reality of what is now my life–one without Jernee Timid Loadholt.

For those of you who have been on this journey with my baby girl and I for seventeen years (or at least 5 to 10 of them), thank you. I hope you have come to know my sweet girl through me, and that she has touched you, too.

There will never be another dog like her, and I am in no hurry to get another one. I want to sit with the feel and quiet of the lack of Jernee around for quite some time. I donated so many of her belongings today: bowls, toys, collars & leashes, beds, clothing, and her crate. So many other pets will benefit from what we had to offer.

I will leave you with an excerpt from the most recent article I’ve shared about Jernee on Substack:

Overall, this day has been a journey of a lifetime. Now that I am without Jernee, what will I do? Who will I be? Where will my heart lead me next? I don’t know about all of you, but I am in no hurry to find out.

Laying Jernee to rest after a month of decline, illness, and constant changes to her mental state, I can finally breathe. Will I sleep soundly tonight? I do not know, but I welcome it if it is on the way.

I just lost the love of my life. I will never be the same. But isn’t that the purpose of something that changes you for the better—for you not to be the same once they have passed on… I think so.

I am who Jernee needed me to be, and with her death, I will have to be who I need me to be.

The circle of life bows with or without an encore.


Part I, Part II, and Part III

Poem for an Image

#3: Saturday Sweet Treat

The Culprit. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

I bit into the cookie butter
goodness and relished Biscoff,
transported to my first flight
amongst the “friendly skies.”

My body nearly convulsed
from the sugary deliciousness,
but I remained calm.

How can something so small
pack such an intense taste
and lure me into wanting more?

It’s Saturday, Self-Care Day,
and I cared for myself by
stealing a sweet treat while
my senior dog snored in the
background; heavenly bliss.


Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-Book and Paperback) yet?

I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak about the most recent events with my place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.

In Life and In Dying

Part II: I have two jobs now; I didn’t know caretaking for a senior dog would be this hard.

August 22, 2025. Part I of a two-part video of a regular morning with Jernee, now as she continues to decline.

This is the first part of how our mornings go now that Jernee is no longer fully independent. She cannot hear. She cannot see. She is losing her faculties and is not truly aware of where she is and what to do.

Being a watchdog for your dog is crazy work, but I eagle-eye her like a hawk, trying my best to keep her safe and to comfort her. The facial expressions she wears now are a combination of confused, lost, sad, and frustrated. My baby girl rarely looks excited, happy, and free these days.

This is the video I cannot watch without breaking down; without losing my cool and feeling like a partial failure because of what’s happening to her. Logically, I know I am not at fault. I know this is God’s plan. We all have to make our grand exit off of this plane and onto the next, but tell that to my heart.

I don’t get much sleep. She wakes up at random hours during the night in a mild state of confusion, or she wants to go outside to potty, or it’s a combination of both.

When she’s whining, I know she’s confused, and she simply needs to be calmed down, so I soothe her and put her in the bed with me. Those moments are the hardest.


I have had to find new ways to keep her safe while I’m at home because if she cannot sense my presence, she will run around our apartment frantically until she can. If she knows I’m at home, she wants me near her, no questions about it.

Taking this into consideration and knowing I do not want her to injure herself, I place her bed we use for sitting outside on our balcony, in the kitchen and bathrooms so she can be around me. Wild, right?!

Yes, you may be saying to yourself, “Why are you doing this?!” But if you witness how terrified Jernee is when she knows I am home and she doesn’t sense me, you would understand.

Jernee Timid: sitting at our kitchen’s entrance in her bed while I prepare her and Zumi’s food, and clean up afterward. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

When I do this, there is peace in our home. She isn’t whining. She isn’t terrified and panting from searching throughout our apartment for me. She isn’t alone. She knows Mommy isn’t too far away, and that comforts her.

And as long as she is comfortable and in a peaceful state, then I can be “right as rain.”

Please do not let anyone tell you that caring for a senior dog who is declining is easy. I am bearing witness and living through it, and can testify that it is not. It is a labor of love, and a multitude of patience should be in tow.

If you cannot love and you are not patient, do not become a dog owner. Eventually, you will have to endure the inevitable, and they deserve people who will walk calmly and lovingly alongside them toward the end.

Part I


In Life and In Dying

Jernee Timid: Fading away from all that she knows.

August 23, 2025, before a short afternoon walk, I came into the living room from our bedroom and found Jernee like this.

If you have followed Jernee & I for a number of years, you know I document it all. From Jernee’s highlights to the downsides of being a pet mom.

She used to have a blog completely dedicated to her and our adventures. I think that is how I met many of you. Funny how I have forgotten what the name of that blog was. If any of you remember, please share it in the comments.

The last few years have been rough. Overall, this Little Monster has been the most magnificent companion. I could not have asked for a better dog.

She has been my peace. She has been my joy. She has been every ounce of love that I’ve needed in the witching hour.

Since my late cousin Chrissy’s death in February of 2022, I have learned a new way to approach death & dying. I face it head on; feel all the emotions that I need to–lose myself in it, and grieve… grieve… grieve.

The morning comes when the mourning is done.

Jernee Timid has been a firecracker since her very first day with me, which was May 28, 2008. She was six weeks old. She cried on the way home to Greensboro, North Carolina (at that time) from Wilmington, North Carolina, which is where she is from.

A reputable breeder sold her to me, and I whisked her away from her remaining brother and sister (Bella & Butler) of their litter. She wailed & wailed, and I thought, “I haven’t heard a dog cry like this since we picked up Nala (Mook’s first baby girl puppy) from her breeder.”

Jernee made such a ruckus, I had to pull over at a gas station about ten miles away, shift her from her doggy bed, and set her up comfortably in my lap for the remainder of the drive to her new home.

From that day, I knew she was going to get any and everything out of me that she wanted. She was spoiled from Day One.

She settled into our family like she belonged here–like she had previously claimed us, and she was just waiting for us to come and bring her home.

I have to remind myself that everyone cannot handle this level of decline in Jernee. Not many can endure the videos I will share. My kid brother, for example, lived with us for three years, and Jernee is his baby.

I’ve seen that kid go to war verbally about her, and I know for a fact he will beat a person down bare-handed if ever they wronged Jernee. He calls her Princess Jay or Jay Nasty (please don’t ask me why, the kid isn’t right! 😆🤣😂).

I’ve been sharing the videos with him, and he told me this evening, “Man, no matter how much we say we are good, we can never prepare for these things. Man, I keep watching this video, I started crying. It’s hard to see Jernee like this, fr, so I know you are exhausted. I’m praying for you, sis. I love you.”

He is the baby boy. I am ten years older than him. He has always had a special place in my heart, but he is the only one who can make me go from Zero to One Hundred in five seconds flat, too.

He cannot deal with the reality of this. He keeps telling me I’m strong and asking how can I record Jernee when she’s fading. My response to him, “How can I not? I love Jernee in life. I’m going to love Jernee in death. This is our reality now, until it’s not. I have recorded many happy times. I find it essential to record the sad times, too.”

So, I will. And if this is not going to be your thing, I get it. I understand it. It’s not easy to digest. But it is my baby girl’s life, and I will immerse myself in it until I have nothing left of her.

Peace and blessings.