The sun had barely crept over the treetops when the peaceful morning at the village sanctuary turned into a nightmare. CUTIS, the golden dog known for his bravery and loyalty, had woken up early as usual, sniffing the air and making his usual patrols around the open compound. He was always alert, especially since the arrival of a baby monkey named Miu. CUTIS had grown incredibly attached to Miu, guarding him like a big brother, even more like a father at times.
Miu was a curious little thing. His days were filled with endless exploration, swinging from low branches, picking at CUTIS’s ears, or sneaking into the kitchen hut to steal a banana. The villagers often laughed at their antics. CUTIS, ever patient, would simply lie down and let Miu climb all over him. But that morning, everything changed.
A new visitor had arrived at the sanctuary the night before. Her name was Reina—a young woman doing research on wildlife behavior. She was polite but distant, and her equipment caught everyone’s attention, especially the net gun she casually carried in her pack. She said it was just for emergencies, for tagging animals gently. But CUTIS didn’t trust her. Something about her scent, her movements, made his fur bristle.
That morning, Reina set up near the banana trees, pretending to document monkey behavior. CUTIS stood by Miu, blocking him every time he moved too close to the bushes where Reina lurked. But the little monkey, full of energy and innocence, finally darted away when CUTIS was distracted by a loud noise from the other side of the compound. CUTIS turned for just a second—but it was enough.
A sudden whirring sound tore through the air. A snap! A cry! CUTIS spun around in horror. Reina had fired the net gun.
Miu was caught.
The net wrapped tightly around the tiny monkey, who screeched and flailed in panic. CUTIS barked furiously and lunged forward, teeth bared, growling like a wild beast. The villagers began to shout and run, some grabbing sticks, others trying to reason with Reina. But she ignored them. She had Miu and she was dragging the net toward her van.
CUTIS chased her. He didn’t hesitate. He rammed into her legs, knocking her off balance. Miu squealed in the net, twisting and writhing, and CUTIS pawed at the rope, trying to chew it loose. Reina kicked at him, cursing.
“Stop it! This monkey is going with me! He’s special. Worth more than you could imagine!”
But CUTIS didn’t care about the words. All he knew was that Miu was in danger. His eyes were full of desperation, and his paws were bleeding from struggling against the net. The villagers yelled for Reina to stop, but she ran toward the van and opened the back door. CUTIS tried to leap inside after her, but she slammed the door into his side, knocking the breath out of him.
He collapsed.
Dust rose around his trembling body. He whimpered, his chest heaving. Blood mixed with dirt on his golden fur. He looked up at Reina, who now stood above him, net still dragging Miu. CUTIS couldn’t bark anymore. He couldn’t stand. But his eyes were still locked on hers—pleading, broken.
“Please,” a villager whispered, watching CUTIS’s collapsed body.
Then, something astonishing happened.
CUTIS, with all the strength he had left, dragged himself forward. Inch by inch, he crawled, leaving a trail of blood behind him. His tail twitched, barely able to move. His tongue hung out, and yet his eyes glistened with something raw and true.
He reached Reina’s feet and, with what looked like a final breath, dropped his head to the ground.
He begged.
Not with words, but with the full weight of his love, his loyalty, his pain. His whole body screamed, Please, let Baby Monkey go.
Reina froze. For a moment, all the noise around her vanished. She looked down at this dog—this battered, broken creature who had given everything for the little monkey tangled beside her. CUTIS had not barked, not bitten, not attacked again. He just begged.
Her fingers trembled.
CUTIS let out a faint whimper, eyes still locked on Miu. The baby monkey had stopped flailing and was now crying softly. The sight of CUTIS crawling on the ground, his body weak but his heart burning bright—it broke something inside Reina.
She dropped the net.
A gasp rose from the villagers. Reina stepped back slowly, her eyes wide. CUTIS struggled forward, dragging himself on his elbows until he reached Miu. Gently, tenderly, he used his teeth to loosen the net, nudging Miu free. The little monkey tumbled out, crying, and clung tightly to CUTIS’s neck.
Reina didn’t move. She stared at them, guilt washing over her. “I just wanted to study him,” she said. “I didn’t think…”
One of the villagers, an elder named Sovan, stepped forward. “You didn’t think because you didn’t care. But he—” he pointed to CUTIS, “—he cares more than any of us ever could.”
CUTIS was exhausted. His head rested on the ground, eyes closed now, but he still held Miu close with his paws. The baby monkey buried his face in CUTIS’s fur, shaking but safe.
Reina fell to her knees. She looked at her equipment, at the net gun, and pushed them away. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
The villagers rushed to CUTIS, giving him water, washing his wounds, speaking soft words of comfort. Miu refused to leave his side, even when the vet arrived. He sat on CUTIS’s back, patting his ears, trying to wake him up.
After what felt like forever, CUTIS opened one eye and let out a tired huff. A wave of relief swept over everyone. The villagers clapped and cheered. Miu squeaked with joy and bounced in circles, then quickly curled up beside his hero once more.
The sanctuary was quiet that night. Stars shimmered overhead, and the breeze carried the sounds of crickets. CUTIS slept deeply in the shelter, Miu snuggled close against his chest.
The net lay forgotten outside, tangled and abandoned like a bad dream. Reina, who had decided to stay behind, helped clean up the area and offered to work with the sanctuary instead of taking animals away.
And CUTIS? He had become a legend. A symbol of love, courage, and sacrifice.
He didn’t need to speak. His actions told the whole story:
Even if it meant collapsing from exhaustion…
Even if it meant bleeding and begging…
He would always protect Baby Monkey.
Always.
