A Calf Named Pete

The day I retired as an ER doctor was an effortless step into my new life as a boutique farmer. I felt no pangs, no remorse, just a deep feeling of calm and excitement that came from knowing, beyond a doubt, that I had made the right decision. The days are still exceptionally long, just now I get to spend them outside, with these wonderful creatures, tending to them and the dozens of tasks that keep a farm running smoothly. 

I knew my medical knowledge would be helpful in tending to the animals, but I had no idea the extent to which my ER training would be called upon. A cow had delivered a calf that was struggling. The birth was difficult and the calf was in severe distress. My medical training and instincts were in full command as I preformed CPR and gave the little one mouth-to-mouth. I couldn’t help but wonder, as I worked on the calf that rainy, cold day, what my colleagues and friends at the hospital would think if they saw me now. I could picture Pete, a good friend, laughing and getting a kick out of my rather unconventional patient.

The calf was saved, a great relief to me and its mother, and named Pete, after my friend would find all of this quite amusing and approve wholeheartedly.