Down on the farm...

Then God said, “Let the earth produce every sort of animal, each producing offspring of the same kind—livestock, small animals that scurry along the ground, and wild animals.” And that is what happened.  Genesis 1:24

When I was thinking of a name for the blog, I had the whole "F" thing going...so I chose Farm, although really we tease ourselves by calling it a ranch most of the time.  While we would love to be known as a pet sanctuary, in actuality, our little "farm" is better known as a pet cemetery.   We have had lots and lots of animals.  We love animals.  We try very hard to take care of them...but we have become somewhat of a danger zone for living creatures, well, minus the human kind.  It is bizarre.

We are the type of people that choose an animal, research it, scramble up the money to pay for it, drive ridiculous distances to purchase it and bring it home to join the family, for what we hope is a very long time.  We buy new collars, toys, beds, food bowls, etc.  You know, we want that animal to become part of the Wilhoit's, to grow with our children, to go everywhere with us and be well-behaved, to come out of that annoying baby stage and calm down...but we never seem to get that far.

Our local vet absolutely has to love us.  We keep his business booming.  One of these days he's going to build a house and I'm pretty certain he could name a wing of that house after us.  I'm not going to get into any specific details yet, but you will soon understand what I'm talking about.  Let's just say if Bob Barker returned to show business, he might change up his send-off to be something like this, "To control the pet population, have your pets sent to the Wilhoit's..."