Wednesday, April 10, 2024. The most successful dog trainers focus on rewarding good behavior and ignoring or correcting bad behavior. The dog learns they get treats and praise when they do this one thing, and they get nothing if they do this other thing. They don't get punished for their undesired behavior. They don't get yelled at or struck for doing the thing they weren't supposed to do. As a result, they grow into emotionally resilient, confident, furry little souls, eager to please and love their person.
When I was a kid, and I did something wrong, I was cut off from love as punishment. I learned that love is earned, not guaranteed. Focus was spent on disciplining my wrongs and blaming me for not knowing any better. There was no encouragement when I did things right. I saw that negative behavior (suffering), gets attention, while positive behavior (joy), gets nothing. As a result, I grew into an emotionally weak, insecure perfectionist, frightened of everyone and everything. This pattern of blame and negativity became my default assumption as an adult. Today, if something doesn't go as planned, I automatically assume I am the cause. Even when it is blatantly obvious I'm not, my brain believes I am. This is a twisted way of living and it is exhausting.
Have you ever heard the descriptor, "terminally unique?" It's mostly used in recovery communities to describe a person who believes they are different from everybody else; that they cannot relate and therefore cannot recover the same way others can and do.
My form of terminal uniqueness was through extreme suffering.
I now believe it allowed cancer to grow in my body - a body so pained its cells were unable to recognize and attack a threat.
It has taken me approximately 30 years to figure this out. And now, I'm learning to let it go.
Letting go is a form of death. And it's also a form of life. It's not a coincidence that my song, Transformation / Death, is currently finishing production and will soon be released as Song No. 22. It took breast cancer, and the chaos that ensued, to get me to not only recognize my own terminal uniqueness, but to choose to do something about it and change my ways. Mind you, I did not figure this out overnight. It took eight EMDR sessions, many more non-EMDR sessions, and my own homework, under the care of Trauma-Therapist J, to reach this point. The journey has been interesting, with highs and lows, life and death. Writing it down gives it more power. Makes it firm. I am holding steady in my state. Let's go back a couple months so I can explain the most poignant parts.
2:00 PM. Saturday, September 2, 2023. I had a terrible migraine. I had slept the whole day prior and tossed and turned throughout the night, only getting up to take more medicine, drink water, and go to the bathroom. But now, I wanted to venture into the living room to be by Miah and the dogs. Miah was sitting on the couch, talking on his phone. He said to the caller, "I have to go, Lorie just got up." He said goodbye, and turned to me.
"My brother died," his mouth crumpled into a frown.
"J?" I asked softly, using his brother's full name. Miah nodded.
"Oh, honey I'm so sorry!" I immediately went to him and gave him a hug.
The explicit details of Brother-in-Law J's passing are not meant for this memoir. He had lived his own unique path and it ultimately lead to his death, at age 44. I had never lost a sibling before and I didn't know what to say or how to act. I jumped into action, looking for any form of comfort I had in my power to provide.
Over the next few weeks, I focused on helping Miah and his family in the only way I knew how. Because I'm an artist, and I heal through creating, I made Brother-in-Law J's Celebration of Life Invitation and a bunch of remembrance gifts to give away at the event. Miah booked a venue for Saturday, September 30th. I stayed busy making everything look nice and special. I tried to ask Brother-in-Law J what he wanted. I wasn't sure where his soul was, but I imagined him getting to the other side, entering some sort of orientation and asking them to hurry up and get him acquainted so he could start using his "other side" skills to help his loved ones still on the physical plane.
7:00 PM. Wednesday, September 27, 2023. Miah was working his way through picture boards for Saturday's Celebration of Life Event. I had uploaded the files to Walgreens Photo and gotten images printed in various sizes. I let him do the board assembly part alone. He kept his office door closed. When he was finished he showed them to me. Somehow, in his grief, he had methodically arranged them in a sort of chronological order. I was proud of him and I told him so.
We sat there in silence, looking around our house, wondering what bad thing would happen next. Suddenly, Miah burst out, "I know what we should do! We should get a puppy! We need a renewal and puppies bring new life."
I squinted, which is what I do when considering something. "Maybe…?" I pondered the idea. And then, "I should ask Trauma-Therapist J what she thinks. I don't know if it's too much for me to take on right now." I was still needing work accommodations, still doing weekly therapy sessions, and still trying to recover from the horrors of cancer. I didn't know if another change, albeit a positive one, would serve my recovery.
For the rest of the night we discussed different dog breeds and how it might look to introduce new life into our aging house. Our current Border Collies, Sparkle and Magic, were not spring chickens anymore. Both were slowing down and needing extra veterinary care now, but nothing too extreme. This might be the perfect time to transition to a family of five.
10:00 AM. Saturday, September 30, 2023. We were in the car heading to Brother-in-Law J's Celebration of Life Event. We needed to get there early to help set up the items we had prepared. The night before, my puppy search had been in full force and I had a lot to talk about during our one hour drive north. To begin with, Trauma-Therapist J had thought a puppy could help reinforce routine in my life and she didn't think it was a bad idea. Things had gotten so whacky with my schedule anyway due to not being able to work full-time. I love routine, but after breast cancer, nothing feels stable anymore for me. A puppy could also bring me back to the present and allow me to work on my patience - something I had lost after tamoxifen.
But the breed of puppy was tripping me up. I had my heart set on a Corgi because they closely resemble my favorite animal - the red panda. But the more I learned about Pembroke verses Cardigan Corgis, and American Corgis (a mix of Pembroke and Cardigan), the more I realized this breed had some troublesome traits. As Miah was driving, I called Childhood-BFF T and asked her for advice. "Well, you know, if you really want one of the best breeds out there, you can't go wrong with a Golden Retriever," she told me.
"I know! And that's the breed Miah and I always talked about getting someday!" I exclaimed. "But, we've always been afraid of the hair and amount they shed."
After we hung up, Miah and I continued the discussion. "Maybe we should do it. Just go for the golden and finally get the original breed we wanted," I said.
He nodded, "I agree. It's way more of a dog than that dwarf jellybean thing you were thinking you wanted. I can't even imagine walking through the neighborhood with a Corgi!"
We arrived at the event, my mind on Golden Retrievers. But I had to set that aside to help make everything special for our family and friends. I had made memory candle holders for immediate family and focused on giving everyone theirs. The catered food was good and I was glad we were able to contribute to such a nice tribute to Brother-in-Law J.
5:00 PM. We were back at home. I sat at my computer and input a Google search, "best Golden Retriever breeders in Wisconsin." After a short scroll I stumbled upon Sugar Creek Goldens and to my surprise saw their fall litter was due today. The photo of mama dog, Summer Rose, was absolutely adorable. As I went for my evening walk with Sparkle and Magic, I texted Breeder T to inquire. "Hello, I'm Lorie Madsen in Madison, WI, possibly interested in a pup from Summer's litter. Have they been born yet?"
For the next 30 minutes, a whirlwind of text exchanges occurred between me and Breeder T. Summer's 12 puppies had been born starting on Friday, September 29, finishing in the early morning hours of Saturday, September 30. Breeder T sent me a photo of a tired but proud Mama Summer with all 12 of her babies. We wanted a female and there were 8 to choose from in this litter. Two females had already been claimed, and we could be third in line for a female pick if we were interested.
Sunday, October 1, 2023. We wanted one of Summer's puppies. Miah emailed Breeder T and asked what we needed to do to secure the third female. As we waited for her response, I started worrying. How did we know if she was a reputable breeder? What if these weren't healthy pups? Goldens are known for getting cancer and other health conditions. Was this really a good idea? How could this all fall into place so easily like this? What was the catch?
Fortunately, I didn't have to worry for very long. Breeder T wrote back and assured us we were secured a spot with the third female, but to make it official she needed us to fill out an application and have a phone call with her. The call was for everyone's benefit. She needed to make sure we would be responsible dog owners. We needed to make sure she was a responsible breeder. If we passed the screening process and felt good about moving forward, we just had to put down a deposit and the third pup would be ours. We send over our application that same afternoon and booked our phone call for Tuesday evening.
Now, somewhere between deciding on a Golden Retriever and finding Breeder T, our new puppy was named - Glimmer Hope Madsen. I am usually very good at remembering distinct moments of significant happenings, but I cannot remember exactly when Glimmer received her name. It may have been during our drive home from Brother-in-Law J's Celebration of Life. It could have been the following morning. For some reason, that detail is lost in my memory. But I distinctly remember how Miah and I determined her name, because her very existence in our lives was meant to bring healing and happiness.
A glimmer is the opposite of a trigger. It is a moment of joy that allows you to feel safe, calm, and happy. When you experience a glimmer, your nervous system becomes relaxed, and you are okay in the present moment. Once you begin to notice glimmers, you are more likely to sustain prolonged mental and emotional well-being.
8:00 PM. Tuesday, October 3, 2023. Our phone call with Breeder T calmed all my fears. She had over 25 years of experience breeding goldens. She was willing to give us references. She answered all of our questions. We answered all of hers. It wasn't a fluke. The Universe was helping us. Brother-in-Law J was helping us. Things were turning around and actually going our way for once. We sent in our deposit and locked it in. We were getting Glimmer in approximately two months.
9:30 AM. Saturday, November 11, 2023. Summer's litter was now six weeks old. It was 11/11 and we had just arrived in Burlington, WI for puppy picking day. For us, 11:11 is a special number. Miah had been texting me "11:11" at 11:11 AM nearly every day for over a decade. It's his way of telling me "I love you, I'm thinking about you." For us, it was a magical coincidence that puppy picking day landed on 11/11. We knew we were doing the right thing by adding Glimmer to our family.
We entered the detached heated garage and were instantly greeted by the delightful sounds of 12 squirming pups in their whelping box. Mama Summer was in the house, away from us, so as not distract the pups. I took in the atmosphere while Miah leaned over the box. A purple collared female pup instantly jumped over the entire litter and straight into his arms. I was unaware of what was happening as it occurred. You see, the night before, Breeder T had texted me photos of each female pup available for our selection. We were now in line for the second female pick, because the other person in front of us had bowed out from wanting a female. We basically had pick of the litter and could choose Glimmer from 7 of the 8 females. In the photos, each pup was wearing a different colored collar. We had scrutinized the photos and decided we liked Brown and Green. Purple wasn't even on our radar. But suddenly, she was in Miah's arms and didn't want to let go. We looked at Brown and Green, and then over at Purple, and we knew. Purple was Glimmer Hope.
I asked Breeder T if she knew Glimmer's exact birth order and time. Glimmer was born 7th of the 12 pups, at exactly 1:18 AM on Saturday, September 30, 2023. She was a Libra like me. To announce her adoption on my social media, Vicarious-Traveler-Friend E made us this beautiful lettering announcement.
12:30 PM. Friday, November 24, 2023. We pulled into our driveway with eight week old puppy Glimmer in my arms. Two hours earlier we had made the trip back to Burlington to pick her up and bring her home. Breeder T told us Glimmer had already had a big morning - she had gotten a bath and nail trim and would probably conk out in my lap for the entire drive home. But she didn't. She squirmed the whole way. We carefully introduced her to Sparkle and Magic and then, after barking and howling in her crate for what seemed like hours, at last, she fell asleep.
Prior to this day we had done a lot of preparation. I had hired a private dog trainer and we were all set to start in-home lessons in two weeks. We had purchased the recommended supplies and read up on raising a puppy. After all, it had been over 10 years since we had raised a pup. We needed to re-learn the fine details. We had been assured it was kind of like riding a bike and it would all come back to us. We were nervous, but we had been through so much already. How hard could a new puppy be?
The Madsen Five began our new journey. We thought we were in store for cleaning up potty training accidents, doing lots of repetitive and sometimes frustrating training sessions, and testing our patience. Despite our very best efforts, nothing prepared us for what happened next.
9:30 AM Sunday, November 26, 2023. I was putting on my jacket and about to head out for grocery shopping when suddenly I heard Miah say, "Sparkle, what's wrong? What are you doing?" and then, "Babe, Sparkle can't walk!"
I turned around and looked at Sparkle. Her back legs were wobbling and she had a terrified look in her eyes. The three of us stared at each other in confusion and fear. Miah acted fast. He scooped her up and rushed her to the emergency vet.
Two days after introducing Glimmer to our pack, Sparkle began a rapid downward spiral of declining health. We were completely blindsided by this turn of events. Fortunately, we were prepared to deal with whatever unexpected expenses would be needed for our senior dogs. And so, we spent our holiday season driving back and forth to the vet, learning to care for our suddenly very geriatric Sparkle, and train our new puppy, Glimmer. Our middle dog, Magic, watched the chaos with fear and trepidation. He hated Glimmer at first, snarling at her love bites and playful jumping. But somehow, over the next few months, we adapted. We learned that Sparkle had developed idiopathic vestibular disease - a non-fatal syndrome that causes a dog to lose their sense of balance. They feel dizzy, they sometimes vomit, and they are unsteady on their feet. It looks serious, but it is not a deadly disease. Sparkle had a full (and very expensive) neurological workup, including X-rays, MRI, and spinal tap. Her specialty veterinarian is a mere couple blocks from the hospital maze where I was treated for my breast cancer. Both facilities are associated with the University of Wisconsin - Madison. We feel lucky to live in a city with a major university and cutting edge medical and veterinary facilities. Her testing found no tumors or malignancies and determined the best possible cause for her vestibular disease - idiopathic. For a week after her workup, she refused to walk. We had to bring her food and water, carry her outside, and hold her up to potty. We divided and conquered - Miah focused on caring for Sparkle; I focused on training Glimmer. Sparkle's birthday was different this year. Instead of wishing for more frisbees and swimming excursions to the river, she wished to be able to walk again. On February 15, 2024, her 13th birthday, her wish came true, and she was able to walk on her own. She was slow, but she was walking!
Poor Magic was stuck in the middle without much attention, but he was able to resume his Friday's at daycare as soon as Glimmer finished her vaccinations. We didn't want him going to daycare and bringing home something that could be harmful to an unvaccinated puppy, so we kept him out of daycare for three months. He was thrilled to return to his social pack on March 1st.
Miah built a sturdy ramp for our back deck. We purchased rugs for every hardwood and tile surface in the house. We set up gates to block the basement stairs and front entryway. Sparkle began acupuncture in late February and has done extremely well. We are also trying physical therapy to enrich her new way of life. She can only walk a few blocks now, but still enjoys rides in her stroller so she can sniff the neighborhood and hear the birds. Sparkle is different now, but she is still our Sparkle.
Magic is also coming around to being friends with Glimmer. In the past two weeks they have been going on walks together and Magic is helping to teach Glimmer how to "Heel" and "Walk Nice." Last month, Glimmer saw her first sunset on my favorite bench at the lake near our house.
The grim reaper's grip has held us tightly for the past two years. The threat of my own death from a breast cancer diagnosis, the loss of Brother-in-Law J, and now Sparkle's aging process has dug into our hearts and tried to make us cold and numb. But somehow, we can feel a new light beginning to glow. Right now it's subtle, but it is there.
And as for me and my health, I think I am on the upswing. I have settled into a part time work schedule that is allowing my brain to become rewired and my body to become restored for what will hopefully be the long haul. I don't want my cancer to return and put The Music Tarot in jeopardy. Finishing this project and creating all 78 fully realized, fully produced sound recordings is my final wish for this lifetime. I must stay the course so I can complete my life's mission.
Because at the end of this lifetime, what matters is how you feel about what you did with what you had.
Being a mystic singer-songwriter is what I've got and I am not taking it for granted anymore. I must use my gifts to make something useful and meaningful out of my talents.
Everything is energy constantly changing. It's scary and it's jarring when any change begins, even when it's a positive one. It's awful when the negative ones persist and hang on for years. Wavering uncertainty is unpleasant. But as every form loses it's balance and eventually lets go, something new is drawing close.
Death is normal and certain. Miah refers to it as "the circle of life." Even though it's unbearable, uncomfortable, and challenging, it is nothing to fear. I am embracing who we are right now, as the Madsen Five, for this moment in time. I don't know how short or long we will be together this way, but I know that change is a normal process. And I'm not afraid of it anymore.
I have learned about life and death in the past two years. I know I have more to learn. There is still life in me yet, even when it involves death and change. Death is not the end. Death is the beginning of something new.
End of 22 - Life & Death