Anne O' the island
If Rachel Lynde didn't like being a cow, Marilla was enjoying it even less. She didn't know what had happened-one moment, she was coming down the lane past Rachel's pasture, and the next, she was on the other side of the fence, with two horns, four hooves, and four stomachs. And she was stark naked. It didn't take her long to figure out that the other cow-the fatter one-was Rachel, mainly because that cow was wailing how it was the End of Days and they were all going to die as cows.
As long I can go first, she thought, unconsciously taking a bite of grass. It wasn't that bad, actually-juicy, with a flavor she couldn't quite describe. Dandelion, maybe, or chard?
She looked up, only to find herself eyeball to dark brown eyeball with Rachel.
"Was there something you wanted to say, Rachel?"
"Marilla, have you been listening to anything I've been saying? Anything? We've been turned into cattle! Providence has turned us into cows! We're animals!"
"We were animals before this, Rachel," Marilla reminded her none too gently, "just not the four-legged kind."
The other cow's eyes stretched, if at all possible, wider. "There's nothing in the Bible about being turned into cows! How are we going to get into heaven now?"
Marilla sighed and turned back to her patch of grass. "Rachel, we will cross that bridge when we get to it. Until then, I suggest that you go find yourself a patch of grass and ponder the fact that we are both naked, and going to get milked this evening by your husband."
Rachel moaned-although it ended up sounding like a drawn-out moo. "Oh, merciful heavens. What are we going to do? This is unacceptable. No, you will simply have to be milked by Matthew. It's only proper."
"Rachel, if you think I'm going to allow my brother-"
"Anne, then."
"Oh, for heaven's sake. Rachel, we milk cows every day. They're used to it-there's no reason we should be concerned by the impropriety of milking."
"But we aren't cows! We're-"
Had she been human, one of Marilla's eyebrows would have been steadily rising toward her hairline. "I beg your pardon. I do believe I heard you say mere moments ago that we are cows."
With an exasperated moo, Rachel turned away and trundled towards the fence. Let Marilla stand there and ignore pressing issues-she was going to stand by the road and moo loudly at passers-by, in the hopes that someone would understand her.