7-JACOB

“Look Mom! Wanda likes to eat from my hand!”

“I can see that, Tay-Tay. It's amazing, honey.”

“She never gets tire?” I asked, as Taylor ran after a calf to feed it, too.

“It's like the Duracell bunny,” Vivienne commented, handing me the antibiotic bottle she used with Raul, one of our five rescued bulls, who a few minutes ago had had a six-inch abscess protruding from his chest.

It hadn’t been the first animal treated in The Eden with that condition, but it had definitely been the largest so far.

And the stinkiest.

“Do you need more alcohol?” My vet asked, still amused, “Maybe sit down for a bit while you recover from the shock?”

“Ha, ha,” I snapped, trying to sound severe, but from now on I knew it would be difficult for the woman to look at me with respect after seeing me retching once the abscess festered and the smell almost knocked me out. “I don't know how you can be so calm after something so horrible happened.”

But all she did was chuckle at my words as she took off her gloves.