Bonham Farms

Bonham Farms Contact information, map and directions, contact form, opening hours, services, ratings, photos, videos and announcements from Bonham Farms, Kennel, State Route 380, Wilmington, OH.

This just broke me this morning I can't believe I'm crying and I don't even know this dog but I've watched her in these ...
01/15/2026

This just broke me this morning I can't believe I'm crying and I don't even know this dog but I've watched her in these videos for so long and I absolutely adored him. My best wishes for your journey Over the Rainbow Bridge and my deepest condolences to his person

Does anybody out there need an old quiet dog just to hold and let sit on your couch and watch television with you?
01/15/2026

Does anybody out there need an old quiet dog just to hold and let sit on your couch and watch television with you?

Good morning family! I am still waiting on confirmation of pregnancies. Hopefully we will have an update within the next...
01/15/2026

Good morning family! I am still waiting on confirmation of pregnancies. Hopefully we will have an update within the next week or so! I just wanted to stop in and make a new post and give everybody an update

Does anyone here know someone that would like to welcome this old man who's lost everything into their home and give him...
12/25/2025

Does anyone here know someone that would like to welcome this old man who's lost everything into their home and give him a nice soft couch and placed a land? He's with the Brown County Humane Society here in Ohio, and we could give him a new year surely someone knows a person who needs a friend

https://www.facebook.com/share/14QWxwLhHr7/

12/20/2025
12/20/2025

Note from Mom: Words of wisdom from our Baker.❤🐾

12/19/2025

This is Dolly Parton in the late 1960s, and if you've only ever known "full Dolly"—the wigs, the rhinestones, the larger-than-life glamour—this might surprise you.
This was before she became an icon. Before "Jolene." Before "9 to 5." Before Dollywood. Before she became one of the most successful entertainers in American history.
This was when she was just a girl from the Smoky Mountains trying to make it in Nashville.
Dolly was born in 1946 in a one-room cabin in rural Tennessee—so poor that her father paid the doctor who delivered her with a sack of cornmeal. She grew up the fourth of twelve children, wearing clothes made from feed sacks, bathing in the creek, using newspapers for wallpaper.
But she could sing. And she could write songs. And she had a dream bigger than the mountains that surrounded her.
The day after graduating high school in 1964, eighteen-year-old Dolly moved to Nashville with her songs, her guitar, and absolute determination.
Nashville wasn't kind.
Record executives told her she was too country for pop and too pop for country. They told her to change her look—she was too "backwoods," too "mountain." They wanted to smooth out her accent, tone down her personality, make her more palatable.
Dolly refused.
In 1967, she joined The Porter Wagoner Show, which made her famous but also trapped her in someone else's vision. Wagoner wanted to control her image, her songs, her career. For years, she fought for creative control while being told she should be grateful for the opportunity.
During this time—the late 1960s—Dolly made a decision that would define her forever:
If Nashville wanted her to change, she'd change—but on her own terms.
She leaned INTO the "too much" they criticized. She made the wigs bigger. The makeup bolder. The rhinestones more extravagant. She turned their mockery into her armor.
"People always ask me how long it takes to do my hair," she famously said. "I don't know, I'm never there."
The wigs became her trademark. But more importantly, they became her shield. Behind the cartoonish persona, Dolly protected herself while building an empire.
In 1974, she left Porter Wagoner's show. He was furious. She wrote "I Will Always Love You" as a goodbye to him—a song that would later make Whitney Houston famous and earn Dolly millions.
Then Dolly did what Nashville said was impossible:
She became a crossover superstar. Country AND pop. Movies AND music. Businesswoman AND beloved icon.
She wrote over 3,000 songs, including some of the most iconic in American music. "Jolene." "Coat of Many Colors." "9 to 5." "Islands in the Stream."
She starred in movies—9 to 5, Steel Magnolias, The Best Little Wh******se in Texas—proving she was more than just a singer.
She opened Dollywood in 1986, which now employs over 3,000 people and brings millions in economic impact to rural Tennessee—the same region she grew up in poverty.
She created the Imagination Library in 1995, which has given away over 200 million books to children worldwide.
During COVID-19, she donated $1 million to help fund the Moderna vaccine.
She's been nominated for 50 Grammy Awards and won 11. She's in the Country Music Hall of Fame, the Songwriters Hall of Fame, and received the Kennedy Center Honors.
And she's done it all while being unapologetically herself—rhinestones, wigs, mountain accent, and all.
That photo from the late 1960s shows a young woman at the beginning of an impossible journey. Natural hair, minimal makeup, fresh-faced and earnest.
She didn't know yet that she'd write songs that would define generations. That she'd become one of the most successful songwriters in history. That she'd build a theme park, star in movies, give away millions of books, help fund a vaccine, and become universally beloved across political and generational divides.
She just knew she had talent, she had songs, and she refused to let anyone tell her she was "too much."
Six decades later, Dolly Parton is 78 years old and still creating. Still performing. Still giving back. Still proving that the girl from the one-room cabin who paid her doctor in cornmeal could become one of the most influential entertainers in American history.
The wigs got bigger. The rhinestones got brighter. The legend grew.
But the heart—the talent, the kindness, the determination that girl had in the late 1960s—never changed.
Dolly Parton didn't just become famous. She became proof that you don't have to change who you are to succeed.
Sometimes you just have to turn the volume up on yourself until the world has no choice but to listen.

12/19/2025
Please follow these people. The writing in their post is absolutely hilarious and adorable.
12/19/2025

Please follow these people. The writing in their post is absolutely hilarious and adorable.

Hello world. My name is Moose. I am two years old, I am built like a small horse, and I still live with my Mom. I am the undisputed VIP of this neighborhood. Cars slow down. People point. It is mostly adoration, though occasionally sheer terror. I graciously accept all of it.

Mom says I am "special." I prefer the term "eccentric genius." Here is a comprehensive list of the majestic, bizarre, and occasionally disgusting behaviors that make me the man of the house:

The Laws of Motion

- The Staircase of No Return: Isaac Newton wrote the laws of physics specifically about me. Once I begin my descent down the stairs, I am a runaway freight train. I have zero brakes. If Mom stops on the stairs in front of me, I get genuinely angry. I cannot "just stop." I have to go all the way to the bottom to reset the simulation and try again. Move it or lose it, Mom.

-The Lap Dog Delusion: I have two orthopedic dog beds and a sofa that is technically mine. However, the only seat in the house that I find acceptable is directly on top of my mother. I do not care if she is "trying to watch TV" or "can’t feel her legs." I am cuddling. It’s happening.

Personal Hygiene (Or Lack Thereof)

- The Self-Saucing Leg: Look, aiming is difficult when you are this tall. Sometimes I accidentally p*e on my own front leg. I solve this immediately by licking it off. Mom screams, "Moose, that is vile!" I call it "recycling."

- The Unsolicited Kickstand: When I sit down, the "Red Rocket" makes an appearance. It’s automatic. It’s like a landing gear deployment. It makes Mom deeply uncomfortable when she has friends over, but I cannot control it. Stop staring.

- The Inopportune Bath: I have a sixth sense for when Mom is on a video call or hosting a dinner party. That is the exact moment I choose to aggressively clean my private parts in the center of the room. I usually make eye contact with her guests while I do it to establish dominance.

Intellectual Pursuits

- The Jurassic Park Protocol: I have taught myself to open every single door in this house. Privacy is an illusion. I am the Velociraptor.

- The Water Bandit: I learned how to turn the bathroom faucet on so I can drink fresh, flowing water like royalty. I have not, however, learned how to turn it off. I assume Mom enjoys the soothing sound of running water and the astronomically high utility bills I generate for her.

Social Dynamics

- The Cat Conundrum: I try to play with the cat by gently tapping her. Unfortunately, my "gentle tap" involves a paw the size of a frying pan. She usually goes flying across the linoleum. I don't understand why she doesn't want to be my best friend.

- Tiny Terrors: I am a giant beast, yes. But have you seen Chihuahuas? They are vibrating rats with sharp teeth. I am terrified of small dogs. They are unnatural.

- The Pirate Life: I only have one functioning eyelid because of a "cherry eye." It gives me a permanent pirate wink. Mom thinks it makes me look goofy; I think it makes me look rugged.

The Logic of Moose

- The Delivery Theory: Mom orders delivery food... a lot. Delivery food always arrives on a motorcycle. Therefore, by the transitive property of deliciousness, every motorcycle I see on the street contains tacos. This is just science.

- The Atomic Clock: I cannot read a clock, but I possess an internal alarm that goes off at exactly 6:30 PM. If the walk does not commence at 6:31 PM, I will stare at Mom with the intensity of a thousand suns until she feels the weight of her failure.

-The Hand Snack: When Mom pets my head, I interpret this as an invitation to put her entire hand inside my mouth. I don't bite down; I just hold it there gently. It’s a mouth-hug. She politely obliges me every time because she is well-trained.

The Great Betrayal

- The Toy Shop Scam: When we go to the pet store, I act interested in every expensive, shiny new toy. I act like I need them to survive. Then, when she buys them, I come home and ignore them completely to play with my favorite, crusty, saliva-soaked rope that I’ve had for a year. It smells like a swamp. I love it more than life itself.

It rarely happens, but sometimes people cross the street because they take one look at me and think I’m dangerous. It breaks my heart because I’m basically a marshmallow. But then I remember I have a Mom who follows me around with a plastic bag to pick up my p**p while I watch her, and I realize:

She definitely works for me.

12/19/2025

We’re starting to think this sweet guy might be one of Santa’s lost helpers 🎄🐾

He was found sitting politely in the road at Central and Elm, as if he were waiting for instructions from the North Pole. He’s incredibly gentle, friendly, and clearly well cared for — clean coat, healthy appearance, and he even smells nice, which only adds to the mystery. All signs point to him having a loving home and possibly going on an unexpected holiday adventure.

For now, he’s safe and being looked after while we try to track down where this little helper belongs. If you recognize him, know his family, or have any information that could help reunite him with his humans before Santa notices one elf missing, please reach out.

📞 Contact: Kat Srnoyanchki at 513-258-3910 (He is staying with this kind lady until his humans are found.)

Please share this post with friends, neighbors, and local groups to help spread the word. Let’s get this sweet helper back home just in time for the holidays! 🎅✨

Address

State Route 380
Wilmington, OH
45177

Telephone

(937) 218-2327

Website

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