At Jernee’s Burial Site. Sunday, May 31, 2026. Photo Collage Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
eight months later, you still visit me as I’m visiting you, and my world has shifted to peacefulness in other forms.
you were my peace. you were my comfort. you were my joy.
although, it is becoming familiar in the void, I’m still breathless without you.
I don’t think the same. I don’t move the same. the woman I am turning into wishes she had your knowing stare in front of her.
but this is grief… I am covered in love I carry in my bones for you—you’re still in every blink of my eyes and every curl of my fingers.
I can feel you in the gaps and pauses of time—you are everywhere and nowhere simultaneously… and on most days, that is a heartbreak I shovel through until my arms give way to the pain sleeping in their veins.
my forever fur baby—you will never know how centered you kept me—how grounded I grew to be in the comfort of your care.
maybe you felt it as you were dying. maybe you smelled it as you watched me take on your independence when it fell from your soul. maybe you sensed the slowness of every step I took around you—cautious of your weathered bones.
I stand in the midst of temporary silence, birds sing a song of which I am lyric-less, and chickens keep watch over hours of land where my heart is buried, and I wonder…
Zumi Tye requests to have “outside time” more now that she’s getting older.
Zumi Tye is on quite the adventure. Monday, May 25, 2026. Video Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
For those of you who are new here, Zumi Tye is my two-year-old Red-Footed Tortoise. She’s getting bigger, and with that, comes a huge personality shining through.
Now that we’re without Jernee Timid (my seventeen-year-old Chorkie that we laid to rest last September), she’s taking over our home, and claiming it as her own.
I have to say, I’m definitely NOT mad at this! I welcome her growth and curiosity. She keeps me entertained.
a mother’s cry and a father’s protest are blending with the morning wind.
safety is a falsehood brewing in the basements of our ancestors, and many of us have lost the rights to it.
I’m tired of waking up to death—to heartache and pain, and the constant cycle shoved upon us so hard and heavy that a single breath has risen in value.
fighting used to be safe—winner, loser, playground shenanigans that stayed in the playground or began sharply at 3 o’clock and was over by 3:30… an after-school special we could only record with our eyes and minds.
now, there are gun-toting, parentless children fighting for attention on every corner, gaining attention in ways we haven’t approved.
and the cost of what they seek is priceless… a life for a life… no refund.
King Copperand Jernee Timid (the dog who had globes for eyes); no longer with us, but still are. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Inspiration comes from all over, and I would be lying if I said I was not inspired byLauren Scott’s book of poems for her dog, Copper, after reading several of them. I have a few poems for and about Jernee brewing in my soul, and as soon as they’re done simmering and ready to be plated, I will serve them to you.
It is a wondrous thing to know I am not alone. I never thought I was. So many people have lost their pets, are in the process of making the REAL decision of letting them go, and are spending their days grieving a fur baby who is still alive but is experiencing his or her last days. The pain of knowing when it’s time and acting on it is not an easy thing to muddle through, but one thing I kept asking myself regarding Jernee was, “In this state, is she her happiest?” I knew she was not.
After reading King Copper, I did what I do and reviewed it on Amazon and Goodreads.
A Gift for the Mourners of Past Fur Babies
It feels weird to title the review this way, but it’s not a lie. It’s not something that the author (and most likely readers of this book) cannot attest to.
We are mourners of past fur babies. We are grieving. King Copper: Our dog’s life in poetry, is a gift for and to us.
Lauren and her family not only lost a dog but they lost a family member. Their “golden boy” was blessed to spend thirteen years with them. He was impactful to their lives, their growth, their love, and their peace. He had been a pillar in their household and a walking buddy outside of it.
I know this loss. I am living through this loss. After putting my baby girl, Jernee Timid to rest last September, I felt every poem shared on each page.
I wept during a few of them; wiping fresh tears from old eyes. I smiled at the photos. I laughed at Copper’s expression in some of them.
He had been a photogenic boy, and he seemed to have known it. I can tell he not only brightened up their lives, but he enriched them. Judging from his poses, he was a magnet for attention and was given it in well doled-out portions.
The author, Lauren Scott, does a wonderful job keeping the rhythm and flow in sync with the subject matter without being overly sad. However, she did not stray too far away from the meat of the book.
We, as readers, know who the star is and was. From the cover photo, to every photo shared inside the book, we got a chance to observe a glimpse of their lives through his presence.
Even though I had not known Copper, reading about him makes me feel like I’d given him a pat or two, laced his full belly with patterned rubs. I know I would have. I know I would have been happy to as well—if he’d been a part of my life as he was a part of theirs.
I feel like he has met up with Jernee Timid, and the two of them are relaxing on a porch with the sun kissing their faces and the shade moving in periodically with a coolness they can bathe in.
May he continue to rest in peace.
King Copper has captured my heart, too, and I hope he can feel it.
King Copper: Our dog’s life in poetry is full of joyful, reflective, sad, hopeful, and loving poems about a dog whose personality was bigger than his size, and I loved every minute of it. It touched my heart. Perhaps, it will touch yours, too.
A Cornered Gurl 
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