The day began like any other on the small family farm. The morning sun peeked gently over the horizon, bathing everything in a soft golden light. CUTIS, the loyal dog, was chasing butterflies in the yard while the baby monkey played nearby, giggling and clapping his tiny hands. Dad was picking vegetables for breakfast, humming softly to himself. Everything seemed peaceful—until CUTIS noticed something was wrong.
The baby monkey, usually so full of energy, suddenly stopped playing. His little face drooped, his movements slowed, and his bright eyes began to look dull. CUTIS tilted his head, concerned, and nudged the monkey gently with his nose. Normally, the baby monkey would grab CUTIS’s ear or playfully climb on his back. But this time, he didn’t move. Instead, he let out a soft, weak whimper and curled up on the ground.
CUTIS barked once, sharply, as if calling for help. Dad, hearing the bark, dropped his basket and ran toward them. “What’s wrong, CUTIS?” he asked, kneeling beside the little one. When he touched the baby monkey’s forehead, his heart sank — it was burning hot.
“Fever…” Dad muttered, panic filling his eyes. “He’s got a high fever.”
The Panic and the Rush
The baby monkey’s breathing became shallow, his tiny hands trembling. CUTIS barked again, pacing in circles, sensing the urgency. Dad quickly grabbed a towel, wrapped the trembling monkey inside, and whispered, “Hold on, little one. We’re going to the hospital.”
CUTIS followed close behind as Dad jumped onto his motorbike. The engine roared to life, and they sped off down the dusty road toward the animal clinic. The wind blew hard, carrying the sound of CUTIS’s worried whines trailing behind them.
The ride felt endless. Dad kept glancing down at the bundle in his arm, praying silently. The baby monkey’s eyes fluttered open once or twice, but his gaze was distant. “Don’t give up, my boy,” Dad whispered. “We’re almost there.”
CUTIS ran as fast as he could beside the motorbike, refusing to be left behind. He didn’t care about the heat or the dust; he just wanted to be there for his little brother.
At the Hospital
When they arrived, Dad rushed through the clinic doors, shouting, “Doctor! Please help—my baby monkey’s burning with fever!”
The veterinarian and her assistants hurried over. They took the baby monkey from Dad’s trembling hands and placed him gently on a small examination table. CUTIS sat by the door, whining, his eyes never leaving his friend.
The vet quickly took the monkey’s temperature—it was dangerously high. “We need to lower his fever right away,” she said. “Prepare fluids and a cooling cloth!”
Dad stood frozen, watching helplessly as they worked. They gave the baby monkey an injection to reduce the fever and wrapped him in cool, damp towels. His tiny body shivered as the cold touched his skin, but slowly, his breathing began to steady.
The vet sighed softly. “It was close,” she said. “He’s dehydrated and exhausted. You brought him just in time.”
Dad closed his eyes, tears welling up. CUTIS barked softly, as if asking, Will he be okay?
The vet smiled gently. “He’s a strong little one. With care, he’ll recover.”
A Long Night of Waiting
The baby monkey was placed in a small cage with a soft blanket and an IV drip attached to his tiny arm. Dad sat beside him, refusing to leave. CUTIS lay at his feet, resting his head on Dad’s shoes, watching every movement inside the cage.
The room was quiet except for the soft hum of machines and the rhythmic drip of the IV. Dad reached through the bars and stroked the baby monkey’s hand. “You scared us today, little one,” he whispered. “You have to get better. We all love you so much.”
CUTIS whined softly, pressing his paw against the side of the cage. The baby monkey weakly turned his head, his eyes fluttering open for just a moment. When he saw CUTIS, his lips curved into the faintest smile. That small smile was all Dad needed to see — proof that his little boy was still fighting.
Hours passed. The fever went down slowly, degree by degree. Dad stayed awake all night, watching over him, wiping sweat from his forehead. CUTIS didn’t move either, his eyes fixed on his best friend the whole time.
Every time the baby monkey stirred, CUTIS’s tail wagged a little, his heart lifting with hope.
The Next Morning
When dawn came, soft light spilled into the clinic room. The vet entered with a smile. “Good news,” she said. “The fever’s broken. He’s out of danger now.”
Dad’s eyes filled with relief. He let out a shaky laugh, rubbing his face. “Thank you… thank you so much.”
The baby monkey opened his eyes, this time fully awake. He looked around, blinking at the bright light, then spotted Dad and CUTIS. He let out a tiny, raspy chirp. Dad reached out, and the monkey weakly crawled into his hands, resting his head against Dad’s chest. CUTIS jumped up, tail wagging, letting out a happy bark.
The vet smiled at the scene. “He’ll need rest and fluids for a few more days. But he’ll be okay.”
Dad looked at CUTIS. “You hear that, buddy? He’s going to be fine.” CUTIS barked again, as if saying, I knew it!
Going Home
Later that afternoon, the vet gave them permission to take the baby monkey home. Dad carefully wrapped him in a soft towel again, making sure the IV bandage was protected. CUTIS trotted proudly beside them as they walked out of the clinic.
On the motorbike ride back, the baby monkey rested against Dad’s chest, eyes half-closed, feeling safe. CUTIS ran alongside, occasionally looking up, checking to make sure everything was okay. This time, the road didn’t seem as long or as lonely.
When they arrived at the farm, CUTIS ran ahead, barking excitedly to announce their return. The familiar sights — the mango tree, the chicken coop, the small pond — all seemed brighter that day. Dad placed the baby monkey in his favorite hammock, under the shade of the big tree. CUTIS immediately lay underneath it, guarding his little friend as always.
Recovery and Love
Over the next few days, Dad made sure the baby monkey ate soft fruits and drank plenty of water. CUTIS never left his side. When the monkey was too weak to move, CUTIS brought him toys and even laid his head next to him to keep him company.
Slowly, the baby monkey began to regain his strength. He started sitting up, nibbling on bananas, and even tried to climb onto CUTIS’s back again. Dad laughed softly the first time he saw it. “Looks like someone’s feeling better,” he said.
The bond between them became even stronger after that. CUTIS seemed more protective, always watching carefully whenever the baby monkey wandered near the pond or the chickens. And the baby monkey, in return, became gentler — often hugging CUTIS or offering him tiny pieces of fruit as if to say, Thank you for not leaving me.
The Beautiful Ending
One evening, about a week later, Dad sat on the porch watching the sunset. The baby monkey sat on his shoulder, munching on a banana, while CUTIS lay on the ground beside them. The air was calm, golden, and filled with the sound of crickets.
Dad smiled and said softly, “You gave me a big scare, little one. But we made it through.”
The baby monkey looked at him, then leaned down to pat CUTIS’s head. CUTIS wagged his tail and licked the monkey’s hand. It was their silent way of saying everything would be all right — that no matter what came their way, they’d always face it together.
As the sun disappeared behind the hills, the three of them stayed close, a small family bound not by blood, but by love, care, and the unbreakable promise to never give up on each other.
And that night, under the soft stars, the baby monkey finally slept peacefully — safe, warm, and surrounded by the love that had saved his life. ❤️
