I always loved visiting my grandparents’ farms. Days started with helping my granddaddy feed the cows and scatter grain for the chickens, and I felt proud to be part of the work.

The dogs followed me everywhere, running through the barnyard and waiting for me to toss them scraps or chase them around.

By the time the chores were done and the sun was setting, I’d sit down with my granddaddy, unwrap a butterscotch, and enjoy its sweetness while the dogs curled up nearby. Simple moments like that made those visits special.