As Mary idly chews on the grass in her backyard, she hears a sound that should bother her, if the fairly lazy nature of a cow had not become ingrained into her already.
Mary's next door neighbor Gertrude, an excessively talkative older woman whose children and grandchildren never visit her anymore (she's told Mary at least fifteen different times) and has more cats than she knows what to do with pokes her head over the fence.
"Hey, neighbor! I was out here watering my garden and... oh dear! What... what..." the older woman's head drops out of view as she falls off the stool she stepped on to see over the fence, but Mary couldn't care much less.
"Hi, Gertrude..." Mary says, slowly standing herself up to full height and swallowing her mouthful of grass. She should be concerned... someone's seen her in this non-human form. But again, the part of her brain that's cow really doesn't care.