Bed & Breakfast in Estes Park

Lissa, Eric, Me (Caprissa) and Paul. Maggie is the cute one in the center–getting hands on healing and love this morning, the day after her first seizure.

Here is an account of Tuesday’s events. It’s 8:20 Am, 10 minutes more and my B&B guests will be smiling up at me as I place a fresh bowl of fruit in front of them. The fruit is swimming in vanilla yogurt and granola. Just as I am checking the oven, my guest’s yell from the breakfast room. “Caprissa, Caprissa has your dog had seizures before?” ”

Should I call Eric”, says Lissa. I’m saying, “No he’s serving breakfast at the other B&B.”

It’s a family emergency what would you do? I’ll tell you what I did. I spent 60 seconds, or more minutes, panicking. My kind guest Lissa, held me by the shoulders as I gasped for air, tears streaming down my cheeks. My mind raced, ‘It’s a heart attack…what do I do…how do I stop it’. I scoop Maggie up, lay her on our down-filled 1886 sofa, which she sleeps on when we’re not watching, and ask my guests to hold her still. I search for the phone book, throw it down deciding to drive Maggie straight to the animal emergency hospital. A place I’ve taken her before to get her teeth brushed, rabies shots. Or, the time I called in in advance during a holiday. Maggie’s tooth was knocked out and wouldn’t quit bleeding. The place Maggie hates to visit.

Maggie and Me this morning in the back yard near our kitchen window. The guests were in side eating breakfast enjoying conversation and enjoying Eric’s “to-kill-a-mocking bird” dish.

The place was swamped, phones ringing, technicians zipping in and out. I stood still at the counter staring, patting Maggie. Suddenly: “CAN I PLEASE GET SOME HELP”. It was 15 minutes later when the doc was sending me home with pain pills. Says, “It’s just muscle pain, old age he reassures me”. He showed me her pink gum’s (this is good and proves it wasn’t a heart attack), her weak hind quarters. This proves she’s getting old.

Well, that was Tuesday. Wednesday after spending two hours at a fellow B&B owner’s home snapping photos of his newly decorated haven Eric and I pack Maggie in the car. It’s the final B&B association meeting of the season.

This is when IT happens. Last I’d seen Maggie she was napping in the cool mountain shade.

Now she’s jerking, head whaling around, eyes glazed and darting back and forth in her tiny fuzzy head.

I crawl into the back of our SUV, curl up with my sweet-pea and ask Eric to please hurry to the vet’s office. I wisper to her that I love her, that I’m sorry, that we’ll figure this out. And, the old stand by, it’s okay Maggie it’s going to be okay.

Fast forward…10 minutes. I’m racing into the hospital with Maggie in my arms. My eyes glazed now too, but with tears and panic. The same desk attendent sees me and quickly ques her associate to help me.

I call out load, “It’s a seizure, it’s a seizure, where’s Dr. Fish”?

Racing down the hall, I call out for the doctor. Calling out my warning my voice getting loader. I’m angry, and scared. I no longer feel Maggie’s 37.10 pounds in my arms. She’s stiff. Her legs are whaling around. I felt sure of ONE thing. Doc needed to see poor stiff Maggie. Her eyes glazed and darting. I wanted HIM TO SEE HER and FIX it right this time.

Maggie the afternoon after her grand seizure. Her ball at her side. She now walks with a gait to the left, head turned the same way. The way she use to turn her head when she was trying hard to understand me.

I’m not sure how much time passed but it happened fast. Maggie was being held down aggressivly by the tech that saw her the day before. Dr. Briant, Maggie’s favorite teeth cleaning person, quickly checked Maggie’s vitals. I was barking out orders.

“Dr. Fish I want you to see her” says I. “Did you see how she’s jerking around, can you look at her”? I ask him. He tells me, that Dr. Briant will tend to Maggie. He tells me to please let Dr. Briant check her vitals. I see in his eyes that he’s sorry. Maybe sorry for the mistake, or sorry for Maggie’s condition. Either way I’m no longer upset with him.

Maggie is on the table her head weaving back and forth and up and down. I think she’s lost her sight.

If you know anything on the topic we would love to hear from you. As you can see she is bright eyed and a little confused but otherwise she doesn’t seem to have pain. She still loves to hear her favorite words: ball, walk, supper, and laundry…The last word might be dog code for, “Carpe diem”.