It was a quiet morning in the jungle sanctuary. The sun rose gently over the trees, casting golden light through the leaves. Birds chirped, and the rustling of branches signaled the start of a new day. Cutis, a female macaque, had just become a mother three days ago. Her newborn monkey, whom the caretakers had lovingly named “Nino,” was her pride and joy.
The sanctuary had been a safe haven for many animals rescued from illegal trades or found abandoned. Cutis had been brought in two years ago after being separated from her troop and injured by hunters. Since then, she had grown healthy, strong, and calm—until today.
As the morning passed, a volunteer named Mia was preparing fruit bowls when she suddenly heard a strange, desperate sound echoing across the enclosure.
“Aaaaah! Aaaaaah!” came the sharp, panicked cries.
Mia dropped her basket and ran toward the sound. It was Cutis—screaming louder than anyone had ever heard her before.
“What’s wrong?!” Mia shouted as she arrived, looking into the enclosure. Cutis was pacing rapidly, her eyes wild with fear. Her arms were reaching out, searching the ground and the branches. She kept crying, her breath ragged, stopping only to scratch at the ground as if trying to dig something up.
And then Mia realized—Nino was gone.
Panic surged in her chest. “Nino… the baby!” she gasped.
Mia radioed the other staff. Within minutes, everyone in the sanctuary was mobilized. Walkie-talkies buzzed. Volunteers sprinted. Drones were launched to scan the area from above.
Back at the enclosure, Cutis was still crying, almost as if begging the humans to understand her pain. She climbed high into a tree and let out a long, heart-wrenching scream.
Cutis cried in panic.
“Nino has disappeared!” shouted Ben, one of the senior caretakers, as he joined Mia. “Did you check the logs? Was anyone near the enclosure?”
“I’m checking now,” Mia replied, tapping furiously on the tablet. “No visitors, just volunteers. But… wait. There’s a gap in the camera feed. About twenty minutes ago.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “A blind spot?”
Mia nodded. “It could be nothing—or it could be everything.”
They replayed the footage before the gap. Nino was seen nestled in Cutis’s arms, tiny and sleepy. The next recorded moment showed Cutis alone, screaming.
The sanctuary immediately issued an alert: Newborn monkey missing. Possible abduction. All staff to assist. Please help.
Volunteers began sweeping the area. Some followed scent trails with dogs, while others inspected each enclosure for signs of tampering. The forest bordering the sanctuary was thick and dangerous—if Nino had been taken out there, the chances of finding him shrank with every passing minute.
Back in her enclosure, Cutis hadn’t stopped crying. She leapt from tree to tree, sniffing every branch, searching every corner. She paused briefly when Mia approached the fence and softly called her name.
“Cutis… We’re going to find Nino, okay?” Mia said, voice shaking. “Please trust us.”
Cutis tilted her head, her eyes filled with pain. Then she let out a soft sound—not a scream, but a moan of heartbreak. Mia felt her own tears rise.
Just then, a volunteer radioed in: “We found a small trail. Footprints. And something else… fur. Tiny, soft fur. Could be from the baby.”
Ben and Mia rushed to the scene. The trail led to a broken section of the fence, just big enough for a small animal—or a careless human—to slip through. The footprints looked like sneakers. They weren’t from any staff member.
“A break-in?” Ben said angrily. “Who would steal a newborn monkey?”
Mia whispered, “Someone in the exotic pet trade… or worse.”
The team expanded the search, now assuming the worst: that Nino had been stolen. Posters were quickly printed and uploaded online. Missing Baby Monkey – 3 Days Old – Name: Nino – Reward Offered.
Cutis refused to eat. She stayed near the fence, staring into the trees. Mia brought her soft blankets, but she ignored them. The pain of a mother’s loss was too deep.
The sun began to set, but the search didn’t stop. In the evening, a break came through—a man had reported seeing a motorcycle speeding through the nearby village with something small and moving in a box strapped to the back.
Ben grabbed his keys. “We’re going after it.”
Mia joined him, and they drove through the dirt roads until they reached the village. There, they met the man, who pointed them toward a shack near the forest edge.
They approached cautiously, their flashlights cutting through the darkness. From inside, they heard faint scratching… and a weak, high-pitched squeak.
“Nino?” Mia gasped.
Ben kicked open the door.
Inside, in a plastic crate with no blanket, lay the tiny monkey—alive, but scared and cold.
“Oh my god… Nino!” Mia shouted, tears pouring down her cheeks.
They wrapped him in a warm cloth and rushed back to the sanctuary.
As soon as they arrived, Mia ran to Cutis’s enclosure. She held up the bundle and called softly, “Cutis… we found him.”
Cutis came down slowly, her face cautious… then hopeful. Mia opened the gate just enough to place the wrapped baby inside.
Cutis rushed forward, gently uncovering the cloth until she saw her baby’s face. She let out a low, emotional sound and scooped Nino into her arms, clutching him tightly to her chest.
She sat down, rocking him, her cries now soft and full of relief.
The volunteers around them all clapped and cried together.
Nino was safe.
The sanctuary strengthened its security that night, fixing every broken fence and adding more cameras. But more importantly, they had witnessed something powerful: the bond between a mother and her baby—strong enough to rally an entire community.
Cutis was calm now. She no longer cried. She nuzzled Nino as he nursed, occasionally looking up at Mia with what could only be described as gratitude.
In the logbook that night, Mia wrote:
“Cutis cried in panic, but we didn’t stop. We ran, we searched, and we found him. Her baby is home again. Please, always help when someone cries for love.”
