I was raised in the South by amazing home cooks.
The food may not have been the best for us, but it tasted better than anything I’ve found in my travels.
We used to call my mother and her sisters “food pushers” because they were always encouraging us to eat more.
Another taste. Another serving. Heck, in some cases, another meal.
I had a flashback to those food pushers this morning when I was sitting on the floor, trying to get my dog Rory to eat.
When he rejected his wet food, I added chicken. When he tired of the chicken, I gave him treats. When he finished the treats, I handed him the wet food again.
Anything to get him to eat a decent-sized meal.
Old dogs are the best, but they’re not the best eaters. — Mama Dog food pusher