The morning sun had just begun to filter through the palm leaves when chaos broke out in the yard. The sound of soft chattering and a few sharp squeaks echoed through the trees. It was another day of laughter, play, and—apparently—confusion among our little family of monkeys.
I had always thought raising a baby monkey was easy after the first few weeks. Feed, bathe, cuddle, repeat. But today? Today was different. The baby monkey, Miko, was growing more curious and clingier than ever. And between his monkey mom, Lulu, and me—the human “mom”—he seemed to be having a full-blown identity crisis!
It all started when I tried to feed Miko his morning milk. Usually, he’d jump into my lap, eyes bright, tiny hands grabbing the bottle like it was the best thing in the world. But not this time. Lulu was sitting nearby, watching closely. She had that protective “mom look,” her tail flicking slightly. Miko noticed her gaze and froze, torn between us. He looked at me, then back at her, his little face full of confusion.
“Miko, come here,” I said softly, shaking the bottle.
He tilted his head, ears perked up, but didn’t move. Then, Lulu gave a sharp “eep!”—a sound that meant, Don’t you dare!
And that was it. Miko ran straight to her.
I sighed. “Oh no, not again…”
Lulu cradled Miko in her arms, pulling him close. It was beautiful—mother and baby bonding—but it made my job harder. I was the one responsible for keeping Miko clean, fed, and safe. Lulu was protective, yes, but sometimes her instincts clashed with my care routine. Every bath, every diaper change, every bottle—she’d watch, nervous and ready to swoop in.
As I approached them slowly, I smiled and said, “Lulu, I’m just helping, okay?”
She blinked, her expression softer now. She knew me well enough to trust me, but still… her baby was her world. And I could feel that mother’s love radiating from her, warm and fierce.
Miko, meanwhile, was wriggling in her arms. His curiosity got the better of him. He peeked at the bottle again, made a tiny squeal, and suddenly jumped toward me. Lulu gave a warning chirp, but he was already halfway across the yard, leaping into my arms with surprising speed.
I laughed, catching him gently. “You little troublemaker! You just wanted both of us, didn’t you?”
He cooed, wrapping his tail around my wrist as if saying, Yes, both!
For a moment, everything was peaceful. I held Miko and fed him while Lulu watched from a few feet away. Her eyes softened, and she let out a quiet, approving hum. The bond between us three was complicated—part family, part friendship, part hilarious soap opera.
After breakfast, it was bath time. Oh, the drama that followed!
The moment Miko saw the basin filled with warm water, his little body stiffened. He knew what was coming. I had to laugh—this tiny monkey could play all day in the rain, but a bath? That was a different story.
“Miko, come on. It’s just water!” I teased.
Lulu approached cautiously, sniffing the water. She seemed torn—wanting to help but unsure whether to trust my strange human rituals.
When I gently dipped Miko into the basin, he let out a dramatic squeal that could have woken the entire neighborhood. Lulu panicked and rushed forward, chirping frantically, as if I’d committed a crime.
“Help! She’s taking my baby!” she seemed to cry.
I quickly reassured her, laughing through the chaos. “It’s okay, Lulu! Look, just a quick wash. He’ll be fine!”
Miko splashed wildly, little hands flailing. The water went everywhere—on me, on Lulu, on the ground. It turned into a mini water park. Lulu didn’t know whether to save him or join in. Eventually, she reached out a cautious hand, touching the water. When Miko giggled, she relaxed and started grooming his wet fur.
It was heart-melting. Mother and baby bonding in the middle of bath time while I watched, soaked but smiling.
Once we were done, I wrapped Miko in a towel and carried him back to the porch. He looked fresh, fluffy, and proud of himself. Lulu followed closely, still fussing over his fur, as if she needed to make sure I hadn’t missed a single spot.
Later in the afternoon, while I was hanging laundry, I heard soft giggles. Turning around, I saw Miko sitting between Lulu and me, tugging on both our hands. It was like he was saying, I want both of my moms here!
My heart melted completely.
We sat together under the tree—Lulu grooming his ears, me scratching his tiny belly. Miko was in heaven. His little eyes drooped as he leaned into us, safe and happy between two worlds: his wild mother’s love and his human mom’s care.
But the peace didn’t last long. Miko suddenly spotted a banana I had left nearby. In a flash, he jumped up, grabbed it, and ran!
“Hey! Come back, you sneaky monkey!” I called, laughing.
Lulu darted after him, and soon the yard echoed with joyful chaos again. Miko climbed a low branch, waving the banana like a trophy. Lulu scolded him while I tried not to laugh too loudly. He looked down at us with that cheeky grin that said, You can’t catch me!
Finally, after a few minutes of chase, Lulu cornered him and gently took the banana away. Miko made his “sad baby” face, looking up at me for help. But this time, I sided with Lulu.
“Listen, little one,” I said, smiling, “Mommy knows best.”
He huffed but accepted defeat, crawling back into Lulu’s arms. She cuddled him, proud and protective, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of admiration for her. Despite our differences, Lulu and I shared the same goal—to raise Miko with love, patience, and laughter.
As the sun set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Miko finally dozed off between us. His small chest rose and fell with soft breaths, his tiny fingers still clutching both of us.
I whispered, “We’re quite the team, huh, Lulu?”
She looked at me, eyes calm and trusting. For a brief moment, she placed her hand on mine, as if to say, Yes, we are.
That night, as I watched them sleep, I realized how extraordinary our bond had become. We weren’t just human and animals anymore—we were a family built on trust, care, and pure love.
Raising a baby monkey wasn’t easy. It was messy, loud, emotional, and at times completely confusing. But moments like these—when love bridged the gap between species—made every challenge worth it.
So, if you ever hear me shouting “Help!” in the yard, it’s probably because Miko’s stolen another banana, Lulu’s trying to rescue him from a bath, or both of them are climbing the laundry line again.
But deep down, I wouldn’t trade this beautiful, wild life for anything in the world. 💛🐵
