Heading Out: Saturday, November 01, 2025. Photo Collage Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt|Cartoon’d Tre by Google Gemini
GAINING confidence “fifteen minutes at a time” l i v i n g without her
Have you gotten your copy of Séduire: Serial Tales & Flash Fiction at Lulu in E-Book& Paperback versions, or Amazon in Paperback(only) yet?
I am on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutrecent 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.
my baby’s prints came today… her paws… I’d been waiting for them since the 12th of September. a lovely sympathy card accompanied the red pieces of art, neatly tucked behind them. every member of our vet’s office signed it. their words and names crowding the corners. I smile. I cry. I remember the best part of my life no longer exists.
I stand at the edge of my kitchen, shifting on the balls of my feet. I am shaking. I tilt my head to look at each print, and the smell of Jernee wafts across the room and lingers in the hallway. she’s still alive in me; she hasn’t let go. or, maybe I’m still holding on?
Zumi pats at the glass of its terrarium, bargaining for my attention, and I rush over to see what the fuss is about. food? check. water? check. I think it just wants to hear my voice, so I call its name in a sing-songy way to appease it. Zu-mi, Zu-mi, Zuuuumiiii. what a silly tortoise you are. it looks up at me and then walks with urgency to its hidey-hole. we all need comfort. tortoises are not exempt.
our home is quieter than it’s ever been. the tapping of paws are no longer morning gifts or late-night signals of an impatient senior dog who “had me at, hello.” I don’t know what I’m doing with this life of mine now, I’m just mulling on—making do.
I say that all I need is work—to keep busy, but I think I am telling myself this because I am afraid of what will happen to me if I sit down and focus on every passing thought of a love that was the greatest love I’ve ever known. where will I land if I give my heart permission to break and stay broken?
is there a name for people who are no longer whole without the pets they spent nearly two decades becoming one with? I don’t like having to answer the same questions every other day: “How are you?” How are you holding up?” “What are you doing with yourself now?”
I wish there was a perfect way to say, “I am cracking and folding into myself because somehow I no longer feel safe alone with my brain, heavy heart, and dying soul. somehow, I no longer feel safe in this body. something is not right. something is not right.
it’s more than losing Jernee, it’s all the ick of the world that is seeping into our skin, making our veins its home. we’re trapped. so, sometimes, I just need poetry when everything is wrong around me, and there’s no guarantee it’ll change.
I need poetry to help me remember who… and why I am.
I’m certain it’d be ten times harder to deal with the loss of Jernee
Zumi Tye: Sunday Morning Antics Part I
I got Zumi Tye just a little under one month before Jernee Timid’s sixteenth birthday last year. I had wanted an aquatic turtle, and upon my search to attain one, I was unsuccessful.
They’re harder to purchase as a pet you intend to domesticate because of various laws. I went to four different locations, and at the final location, which was the Reptile Zoo and Pet Center, the owner and pet handler schooled me on land-based tortoises, instead, and I fell in love with the idea of having a land-based tortoise instead of an aquatic turtle.
I fervently believe that if I did not have Zumi Tye during this time, it would be ten times harder for me to adjust to life without Jernee.
I still have something to care for, something to receive all this shackled-up love, and something to grow with me. It’s a beautiful feeling to know that all is not lost, and ZuZu needs me just as much as I need it. I believe God does what He does before we see the end result. He knows what we need before we need it. And with this little reptile of mine, I’m never sad for an entire day.
It absolutely will not let me wallow, and maybe that’s a little bit of Jernee shining through, too.
Zumi Tye: Sunday Morning Antics Part II
I miss my sweet and fierce girl, but there’s still NEVER a dull moment in our home.
Happy Sunday, beautiful people. May you share the shackled-up love you have inside you with someone or something today.
Peace and blessings.
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 aboutthe 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.
Zumi Tye, my Red-Footed Tortoise, at 18 months old. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
my sweet, unsexed tortoise, grows quicker than the sun can set.
meals are three times per day now. at this rate, it’ll be draping over the sides of its terrarium in less than two years.
Zumi interacts with me; it licks the glass and moves its head from side to side at the sound of my voice.
I think it knows me. I think it loves me.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) 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 aboutthe 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.
Spending my last 15 minutes with my baby, Jernee Timid, while she was in the twilight phase of her End-of-Life process. At this point, we were talking about Jernee’s character and how she was VERY MUCH a DIVA, and I am clearly not. We took time to laugh, too. Friday, September 12, 2025. Photo Credit: Karlie B. Cornelius
you didn’t know we needed to do a thorough walkthrough of your apartment to make sure the dog you say is dead is really… dead? it’s in your lease–a clause; once your pet has transitioned, in order to reverse any pet rent fees, we have to verify what needs to be verified.
silly me, here I was thinking the receipt from the vet’s office with the amount it costs for the euthanasia services would be enough. it’s not. you actually want to come to my unit, lay eyes on my private space, and look for a being who is no longer alive.
be my guest.
I’d say inconsiderate. I’d say insensitive. but this feels like garbage–the icky kind that bulges up at the bottom of the bin and sticks to the corners of it when the city comes to dump the contents in their truck. I comply. after all, we must follow the rules.
I make the request to delete my information from the PetSmart app, submit my request to deactivate Chewy, and issue a note to PetScreening that asks you to select the reason the account is no longer necessary. “Jernee Timid has passed away.” “I have re-homed Jernee Timid.” “Jernee Timid has run away.” “This profile for Jernee Timid is a duplicate.” “I am no longer residing at the associated property.”
I select the first option. I am prompted to confirm what I have selected–make sure I’m not a robot. I click submit and watch the words flash across the screen regarding how this company will make my apartment community’s property manager aware of the information I submitted to them.
everyone wants to be sure my baby has zero breaths left…that she really is taking a dirt nap, and have I really lost the best thing that has happened to my heart since learning how to love?
I could not have prepared myself for erasure of this magnitude. Jernee’s not here, but she is. Jernee’s not here, but she is. Jernee’s not here, but everyone believes that she is.
and my heart knows she is not. but my heart has a special place for her where she will always linger… and the boot soles of capitalism may take her away from me on paper, but they’ll never strip her away from the lining of a muscle that beats strongly for her in life and in death.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) 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 aboutthe 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.
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.
A Cornered Gurl 
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