You wake up hungry, so you do the only thing you can think of - you cry, a bleating mixture of calf and human infant sounds, which wakes your mother up with a snort.
One of the cowgirls barges in.
"Do you wish me to feed him, Bessie?" She asks. You don't much care for her. She didn't taste right.
"No, no..." your mother grumbles, but it's like music to your ears. "I'll do it. This one's my special baby, after all." She hefts you up as she moves to a seated position and holds you down by her udders, where you grab one and suckle eagerly. "I'll head over to the labs after we're done here, to see just what happened to my little Ferdinand." She smiles at you and strokes the little tuft of hair on the top of your head, and you stare into her eyes as you suckle.
You can feel a slight tingle through your body, but you pay it no mind. Your mother is holding you on your lap, her nourishment tastes so good, and she loves you. You can just tell that she does.