Trixie stared at the pail of milk that Erik had brought her. Farm fresh milk? She glanced at the barn in the backyard. When had that gone up? Had it always been there? She pour the milk into a glass. It was warm it smelled so good? When did they get a cow? Oh, yeah, Devon was born about 20 years ago. Devon? Cow? Her son, a cow? How could that be?
She sipped the milk. It was so rich and creamy. Sparks flickered in front of her eyes. The drink made her heady. Her clothing grew tighter. A button on her blouse popped, then another.
Devon and Erik's father Maurice was driving home from the Club, and he glanced at the photo of his family that he kept on his dashboard.
"Oh, I truly am as lucky as Theseus," he remarked.
Maurice had tamed the minotrix. He had trouble remembering the courtship exactly, but he knew they married. He looked at the photo of the huge cow-woman towering over him, and his two strapping sons.
Milk it does a body good.
Erik sets down the pen and paper in frustration, and goes downstairs. He always remembers his mother as a minotrix, so he is not surprised to see the giant anthrocow whose horns nearly scrape the ceiling making lunch.
"Mum, I dunno why Devon can't stay a cow. I need a familiar, if I am to be a proper wizard," Erik complained, as she set a sandwich in front of him.
"Mmooy Erik, doon't be troooubled. Devooon's hooomanity is tempooorary, I think?"
The sound of a car pulling into the drive interrupted her train of thought.
"Ah, your father, Moorice is hooome!" she said with a lusty smile.
Erik didn't know whether seeing a cow face smile lustily or that it was his mother face was more disturbing.
In the new barn, Devon paced naked back and forth inside his open stall. He couldn't leave it. It was so frustrating. Maybe if he concentrated really hard? Wait if he couldn't leave, maybe he could call for help, but then they would see him naked! Where was Erik? He was the solution? Or was he the problem?