Through Netflix, me and my household has dived into “All Creatures.” We started with the first episode, when a newly-minted Scottish veterinarian, James Herriott, goes over the English border and arrives in the village of Darrowby seeking employment with Siegfried Farnon, the bachelor dandy in a shire teeming with livestock. Farnon takes in James and gives him the dirtiest of dirty work, which usually involves chasing a pig in muck.

Farnon is a memorable character, more vibrant than James. Likewise his brother Tristan is a gadabout scene-stealer. The Farnon brothers provide the sparks for the show while James and his faithful wife -- the long-suffering, tea-serving Helen -- are the dutiful drudges. “Creatures” causes us to love the colorful rascals but also to admire the hard-working, do-gooders.

Based on the best-selling books by James Herriott, the series follows the adventures of these vets as they work in a country on the brink of World War II. There is no drama greater than lockjaw in a baby donkey and testicular cancer in a beloved West Highland terrier. Invariably, these cases come to sanguine conclusions.

This a TV show we watch together – the dog, me and my honey. We usually eat our dinner with “Creatures,” hiding our eyes only when the going gets gross as when a naked-to-the-waist vet helps with a difficult calving by putting an arm way up a cow’s butt. This is earthy stuff.

Are there laughs? Not many. Are there moments of high anxiety? A few, but these are more deeply felt rumbles of truth. “All Creatures Great and Small” hews to its name. The series never overwhelms you with great tragedy or small superficiality.

These vets in “All Creatures” are on the cusp of modern veterinary science, using medicines to heal instead of herbal poultices. They contend with rustic folk who still believe in black magic to cure animals. Many illnesses present mysteries, as when a herd of cows suffers copper deficiency. More often than not, conditions do not stump these chumps. They figure out the cure for the innocents in their care and rejoice with glasses of whisky at the local roadhouse. Their work is hard, but uncomplicated, as they cope with the emotional viscera of life and death.

“All Creatures” turns out to be bag balm for the spirit, a TV show that achieves the rarest of feats. It transports you, elevates you, and reminds you of elemental truths. In this era of war, presidential duplicity, and fear, I escape into “All Creatures Great and Small” because the series really does provide something unique – a genuine window into goodness, without any "Real Simple" pretension.