{"id":29533,"date":"2018-06-27T19:02:32","date_gmt":"2018-06-27T18:02:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ourtour.co.uk\/home\/?p=29533"},"modified":"2018-11-16T17:11:54","modified_gmt":"2018-11-16T17:11:54","slug":"the-longest-day-pulmonary-oedema-in-bourg-saint-maurice","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ourtour.co.uk\/home\/the-longest-day-pulmonary-oedema-in-bourg-saint-maurice\/","title":{"rendered":"The Longest Day – Pulmonary Oedema in Bourg Saint Maurice"},"content":{"rendered":"

Zagan the motorhome is having a rest in Camping Huttopia here in Bourg Saint Maurice\u00a0(N45.62250, E6.78313<\/a>). In fact we’re all having a rest here after a couple of traumatic days.<\/p>\n

We arrived here on Sunday because Charlie was having trouble breathing. We’d spent a few days at high altitudes as the weather was heating up and we wanted to help keep Charlie cool, his heart medication means he pants and struggles to breath when it’s too warm. Even though it was much cooler in the mountains, his breathing became worse and he started coughing. Even with all the windows and becoming a chilly 11\u00b0C inside Zagan at night, he still couldn’t breath or sleep.<\/p>\n

During a long sleepless night nursing him and trying to make him comfortable, we began to wonder if the altitude might be the cause. First thing the following morning, we headed down over a thousand metres to Bourg Saint Maurice. The town has all the services we might need, including a vet and pharmacy, while still being surrounded by mountains for Jay to carry on with his running training.<\/p>\n

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Charlie loves the mountains and has been up loads of them over the years<\/p><\/div>\n

Arriving at the campsite I requested a pitch with as much shade as possible, and the awning was deployed to keep it as cool as we could. Charlie’s breathing was still no better, so we emailed the local vet for an appointment when they reopened on Monday. Charlie’s big brown eyes were now red around the edges from lack of sleep and looked pleadingly at us to make it stop. We kept him outside in the cool with a damp towel on him, bringing him water and ice, helping him up when he needed the loo – we did everything we could think of, but none of it helped. That afternoon we had some very frank discussions.<\/p>\n

Many tears were shed as our minds prepared us for the worst – I’d better give him extra meat as this could be the last time I get to make his breakfast. Will I ever get to hear him snore again? Was it our fault, had we killed him by taking him up the mountains? How would we say goodbye? How would we tell our families? What actually happens at the end? Will he finish all his gravy bones? The vets wrote back offering us an appointment, but until at 4pm the following day, so the answer to the final question was yes.<\/p>\n

As Monday dawned after another sleepless night nursing him, I prepared what I thought would be his last breakfast, with extra meat and anything else I could find that he liked. I cooked up some pasta for him and he had a constant stream of his favourite gravy bones popped in front of him. There was even talk of a gravy bone treasure hunt for him, but he was struggling to stand and walk and his breathing now had a watery rattle noise to it.<\/p>\n

As the minutes slowly ticked by there was more frequent tears and a growing feeling of dread. I burst into tears saying goodbye to David and Carrie, a couple who we’d spent the previous evening having a drink with – a very welcome distraction, but apologies to them as our minds were elsewhere. It felt like we were waiting for exam results or a job interview, nervous laughter accompanied tales about Charlie doing all sorts of things, it was like being at a wake. All the time I had the music from The Littlest Hobo going around in my head – if you haven’t seen Charlie’s version, here it is.<\/p>\n