Cutis, the kind-hearted golden dog, had spent months longing to see his little friend, the baby monkey he had once cared for. The last time they had met, the tiny creature was just a helpless infant, clinging to Cutis for warmth and comfort. Their friendship had blossomed into something extraordinary, a bond that transcended their differences. But one day, the baby monkey was taken away by the rescue team to be returned to his natural habitat, deep in the jungle. Cutis had watched him go, his heart heavy with sadness, but he knew it was for the best.
Seasons changed, and Cutis often gazed toward the jungle, wondering if he would ever see his little friend again. Then, one fateful afternoon, the air was thick with an unusual stillness. Cutis sensed something different—something that made his fur prickle. He lifted his nose, sniffing the air, and suddenly, he caught a familiar scent. His heart pounded with excitement. Could it be? Could his baby monkey friend have returned?
With his tail wagging furiously, Cutis sprinted toward the jungle, following the scent that pulled at his heart. His paws pounded against the earth as he pushed through the undergrowth, his ears twitching at every sound. Then, beneath the giant banyan tree where they had once played together, he saw him—his little monkey friend.
But something was wrong.
The baby monkey lay curled up against the tree, motionless. His tiny body, which once wiggled with energy, now seemed weak and frail. Cutis’ joyful bark died in his throat as he hurried forward, nudging his friend gently with his nose.
The baby monkey barely stirred.
A wave of sadness washed over Cutis. He whimpered softly, licking the monkey’s tiny face, hoping to see his eyes open with the same playful spark as before. But the baby monkey only gave a weak chirp, his small fingers barely grasping at Cutis’ golden fur. Cutis knew he needed help—fast.
Summoning all his strength, Cutis gently nudged the baby monkey onto his back and began the long journey home. He moved carefully, making sure not to jostle his little friend too much. The jungle, once full of adventure and wonder, now felt ominous, every shadow a reminder of how fragile life could be.
When Cutis finally emerged from the trees, he let out a desperate bark, calling for help. His human, a kind-hearted rescuer named Mia, rushed outside. She saw Cutis with the tiny monkey clinging weakly to his back and gasped.
“Oh, Cutis,” Mia whispered, carefully lifting the baby monkey into her arms. “What happened to you, little one?”
She rushed him inside, wrapping him in a warm cloth and offering him some water. The baby monkey’s fingers twitched as he sipped weakly. He was alive, but barely. Mia’s face was full of worry. “He’s dehydrated and weak. We need to get him to the wildlife center.”
Cutis whined and licked the monkey’s hand, as if to tell him to hold on. He had longed to see his little friend again, but not like this—not in such a heartbreaking state. He followed Mia as she gently carried the monkey to the car, his heart aching with worry.
The drive to the wildlife center felt like the longest journey of Cutis’ life. He sat beside the baby monkey, his eyes never leaving him. He let out soft whimpers, nudging him with his nose now and then. The monkey, too weak to move, gave a small sigh and nestled closer to the warmth of Cutis’ fur.
Upon arrival, the veterinarians took the baby monkey in immediately. They checked his vitals, gave him fluids, and wrapped him in a soft blanket. Cutis watched anxiously, his tail still for the first time in ages. He could feel the weight of worry pressing on his heart. He had always protected his little friend before—had always been his playful guardian. But now, all he could do was wait.
Hours passed. The sun began to set, casting golden light over the center. Cutis refused to leave the door, his ears perking up every time he heard footsteps. Then, at last, Mia returned with a soft smile. “He’s going to be okay, Cutis. He just needs rest and care.”
Relief flooded through Cutis. He let out a small, happy bark, his tail wagging for the first time since finding his friend. Mia knelt beside him, scratching behind his ears. “You did good, boy. You saved him.”
A few days later, Cutis was allowed to visit his little friend in the recovery room. The baby monkey was still weak, but his eyes shone with warmth when he saw Cutis. He chirped softly and reached out his tiny hand. Cutis let him grasp his fur, pressing his nose against him in a gentle nuzzle.
Though it had been a sad and unexpected reunion, Cutis knew one thing—his love for his little friend had not changed. And no matter what, he would always be there, ready to protect him, just as he had before.
