CUTIS had always imagined farm life would be peaceful—beautiful green fields, cows munching grass, and sunshine warming the clean countryside air. At least, that’s how it looked in the videos he watched. So when Mom suggested a weekend at Uncle Darro’s farm to “learn some responsibility,” CUTIS jumped at the idea. Baby Monkey, always curious and ready for chaos, jumped even faster. The two were a team—sometimes brilliant, sometimes disastrous, but always energetic.
They arrived early in the morning, when the sun was still stretching its golden arms across the fields. Uncle Darro greeted them with a laugh that shook his whole belly.
“You boys ready to help herd some cows today?” he asked, wiping sweat from his forehead though the day had barely begun.
CUTIS nodded proudly. Baby Monkey saluted like a soldier preparing for battle. Mom raised an eyebrow. “Make sure you listen to your uncle. Cows may look gentle, but they can cause big problems if you’re not careful.”
CUTIS and Baby Monkey listened… sort of.
The First Sign of Trouble
Uncle Darro led them to the field where the cows grazed quietly, tails swishing lazily, ears flicking at flies. CUTIS sighed dreamily. “See, Baby Monkey? Easy job. Just walk with them.”
Baby Monkey, however, saw something else—an adventure, an obstacle course, and probably a race all rolled into one. He hopped up on a wooden fence, waving his arms like he was commanding an army.
And the cows, surprisingly, noticed.
One cow—big, grumpy-looking, with horns curved like question marks—stared at him. CUTIS gulped. “Uh… Uncle? Why is that one looking at us like that?”
“That’s Borka,” Uncle said. “Don’t tease her. She gets riled up easy.”
Baby Monkey, unfortunately, heard only the phrase “gets riled up easy.”
He grinned. CUTIS’s stomach dropped.
Before he could stop him, Baby Monkey leaped off the fence, landing with a thud that startled several cows. They mooed loudly. Borka snorted, stamping her foot.
CUTIS grabbed Baby Monkey by the tail. “Stop it! We’re supposed to HELP herd them, not make them angry!”
But the damage was done.
Chaos in the Field
Borka mooed again—a deep, thunderous sound that shook CUTIS’s bones. Another cow joined. Then another. And suddenly the peaceful herd exploded into movement like someone had fired a starting gun.
CUTIS and Baby Monkey sprinted out of the way as the cows began running, not calmly walking like Uncle Darro had planned.
“Uncle!” CUTIS yelled, waving his arms frantically. “They’re going crazy!”
Uncle Darro dropped his bucket of feed and ran toward them. “What did you two DO?”
Baby Monkey pointed at Borka. CUTIS pointed at Baby Monkey. Uncle Darro sighed—the long, world-weary sigh of a man who had dealt with children and monkeys before.
“Well, we gotta round them back up!” he said. “Spread out, guide them toward the barn, not AWAY from it!”
CUTIS looked at Baby Monkey. Baby Monkey looked back.
Then both screamed when the cows charged past them, heading not toward the barn, but toward the open gate leading to the hills.
“Oh no,” CUTIS whispered. “Ohhhhh no, Mom is gonna kill us.”
Chasing the Runaways
CUTIS and Baby Monkey scrambled onto an old ATV parked nearby. CUTIS turned the key—miraculously, it started.
“Hold on!” he shouted.
Baby Monkey wrapped his arms around CUTIS’s neck like a seatbelt made of fur and chaos.
They zoomed after the cows, who had split into three different directions like they had planned an escape for months. CUTIS tried to follow the biggest group, bouncing over bumps, dodging rocks, yelling, “Go back! Go BACK!”
Baby Monkey thought this was the best ride of his life. He hooted excitedly, waving his arms, accidentally scaring cows further.
One cow slipped into a muddy ditch. CUTIS jumped off the ATV. “It’s okay, girl! Stay calm!”
Baby Monkey tried to help but ended up slipping and landing face-first in the mud. The cow mooed what sounded suspiciously like laughter.
CUTIS pulled Baby Monkey out, dripping mud. “This is not funny!”
Baby Monkey grinned anyway.
They guided the cow back toward the main path, slowly calming the others by moving gently and speaking softly—something Uncle Darro had told them to do in the first place.
Progress! But not for long.
A Bigger Problem Appears
As CUTIS and Baby Monkey herded the runaway cows back toward the farm, they heard a strange rattling sound. Baby Monkey froze, his eyes wide.
CUTIS turned slowly.
A tractor—Uncle Darro’s old, stubborn tractor—was rolling downhill with no driver.
And it was heading straight toward…
the cows.
CUTIS screamed. Baby Monkey screamed louder, waving both arms like a wild traffic officer.
CUTIS leaped back onto the ATV, revved the engine, and drove at the tractor. “Come on, come on!!”
He jumped off just in time to pull the tractor’s handbrake, stopping it a few meters before it hit the herd.
He collapsed, panting. Baby Monkey collapsed beside him, dramatically flopping onto the grass.
The cows blinked at them, unimpressed.
But at least they were safe.
The Final Hurdle
CUTIS and Baby Monkey finally managed to guide the cows back to Uncle Darro, who shook his head in disbelief.
“Well,” he said, “that was the noisiest, messiest, most chaotic herding I’ve seen in years.”
CUTIS lowered his head. Baby Monkey covered his face with his tail.
“But,” Uncle Darro added, smiling, “you didn’t give up. And farm work never goes perfectly. Sometimes problems come bigger than cows.”
CUTIS felt warmth in his chest. Baby Monkey puffed up proudly.
“Thanks, Uncle,” CUTIS said.
Mom walked over, eyebrow raised. “So… how did it go?”
CUTIS and Baby Monkey exchanged looks and answered at the same time:
“Great!”
Uncle Darro snorted. “Uh-huh. Sure. Ask them about Borka.”
Baby Monkey made a “shhhh” gesture.
Mom laughed. “As long as everyone’s safe—and next time, maybe a smaller job.”
CUTIS nodded eagerly. Baby Monkey nodded too, though his eyes sparkled with excitement for the next adventure.
Because if there was one thing clear, it was this:
When CUTIS and Baby Monkey worked together, big problems always found them—
but so did big stories.
And today’s story?
One they’d be laughing about for years.
