The Diagnosis

Hi, my name is Mr. Darcy. And I must now endure the indignity of a high chair.

Mr. Darcy has a megaesophagus. Basically, the muscle doesn’t work properly anymore and food sits there instead of heading on down to his stomach. I am now in the process of trying to find him a Bailey chair. Yes, I know many of you will find this ridiculous. But it is evidently, the best way to ensure proper digestion and therefore avoid death by bacterial pneumonia.

Dear God, it’s me Nichole (not Margaret). If you are in the mood to listen to my sarcastic whining today, I would like to say this: I am supposed to feed a BABY in a high chair. Not a DOG.

PS Thanks God, for putting up with me. I know I’m a pain in your see through ass. 😉

5 responses to this post.

  1. I’m really learning a lot from you. Who knew there were high chairs for dogs??


  2. Posted by Erika on March 30, 2011 at 10:47 am

    I still think his diagnosis sounds like a superhero name! Make him a cape! He’s a superdog!! It’s not ridiculous…and you know this is coming from someone whose dog wore a lampshade collar for like 10 years and was on prozac. Darcy is lucky to have you in his life! Good luck with finding the chair!


    • S says he has been thinking along the same lines. He sees movie titles like: “Godzilla VS Megaesophagus”! You two are too funny!


  3. Posted by Katie on March 30, 2011 at 8:01 pm

    So glad you know what it is! Poor little dude, I love him! Good luck finding a chair!!!


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