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My Dog Reviews the Furniture He Has Eaten

Andy’s House

By Hudson Simmons

I had just spent a busy afternoon barking at motorcycles, lunging at joggers and digging holes in the backyard, so I was famished when I sat down for dinner. Luckily, the proprietor of Andy’s House does not skimp on portions, offering entire banisters, whole couches and the complete American Girl doll collection.

Unable to control myself, I first attacked the cold antipasti plate: an exciting assortment of remote controls, lamp cords and children’s art projects. The remotes were crisp and enthralling, with a touch of maple syrup from when the owner’s daughter clutched them at breakfast. After licking off the Play button, I pried open the  hard shell and picked at the delicate circuit board and capacitor. Inside was the real treat: two AA batteries (Eveready, not store brand!), which  I swallowed whole, a delightful departure from the chewy lamp cords. That dish’s saving grace? It was served still plugged in to the outlet, the electricity adding a much-needed dash of spice. The kids’ art projects were light and simple, though the diorama of a Native American village did lodge in my throat. After a few minutes of retching, the tepee came up, and I promptly gobbled it up again. It was just as good the second time around. It was now time to dig in to the next course.

Great-Grandma’s Heirloom Wing Chair was aged to perfection. Shards of wood tore easily from its back, exposing Egyptian cotton filling and tufting threads, both of which maintained their aura of faded splendour all the way down. This was Chef Andy’s mic drop.

I moved on to the comfortingly thick and tasty Leg of Table. I like my table legs pine, bathed in a rich, dark stain. Thus was the case with the Amish Mission Table from Macy’s Au Jus. This dish is served in a reduced mahogany varnish, its flavour both deep and long, with extraordinary balance, no gamy edge and only  a few splinters left in my gums. Fortuitously, Andy’s House offers an extensive drinks menu with which to wash down the shards. After passing on the overwatered fern, I stopped at the fish tank. This was self-serve, so with a gentle nudge on the stand, the water poured out, along with the gravel, air-filtration system, fake scuba  diver, real fish and the 50-gallon tank itself, a  heady brew enlivened by algae extract.

For dessert, I had  the rug. The rayon fibres were al dente, just how I like them. One downside-it was bland, as Sam’s Club rugs tend to be. Fortunately, my dining partner, Chester the beagle, had rolled in something dead only minutes earlier and thoughtfully seasoned the meal.

If there is a drawback to Andy’s House, it’s the service. I can’t say  I enjoyed having my nose swatted  after each course. Nor was I pleased to be unceremoniously torn  away from the sumptuous, palate–cleansing first edition Adventures  of Huckleberry Finn and dumped in the yard. But that won’t keep me from returning for the restaurant’s inaugural theme meal: Hawaiian Shirt Night-all you can eat.


About the author

Cecilia Castaneda

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