Eating the dog food

When we were little my sister and parents and I lived in central Georgia, where my dad worked for the Air Force. We had a Boxer named Bo, who lived tied up out back, though we let him into the house quite a bit. My dad fed Bo every night, carrying the dog's meal down to him in a big plastic pail, and my dad really enjoyed creating a big dinner in the pail--he'd stir in crunchy dog food, table scraps, a cup or so of warm water, and any meat drippings that were handy. He'd also put some sort of vegetable on top more or less as an experiment, and the dog rarely failed to leave whatever it was--tomato wedge, lettuce leaf, a few ripe olives--sitting alone and clean in the bottom of the food pail. Once as a treat for Bo my dad bought these multicolored doggie doughnuts, and they looked and smelled pretty good, so my sister and I ate some, and they weren't bad. That led us to try out all the other dog food, and it was truly awful.