CUTIS Couldn’t Find the Baby Monkey… But What Happened Next Broke Him 🙏

Cutis had always been a calm and steady soul. As a farmer living on the edge of the forest, he was known for his strong hands, gentle heart, and an unshakable bond with the animals around him. But nothing had prepared him for the heartbreak of this morning.

The sun had barely risen when Cutis stepped out of his wooden cottage, stretching and blinking in the golden light. He walked past the chicken coop, the sleepy cows, and the vegetable patch, all humming with life. But something felt off.

“Lulu!” he called softly, scanning the trees that bordered his land. “Lulu, where are you?”

Lulu, a baby monkey no bigger than a watermelon, had been with Cutis since he was rescued months ago. Found abandoned and crying in the rain, Lulu was taken in by Cutis and raised like family. The bond between them was deep—Lulu would cling to Cutis’s shoulder while he worked, nuzzle under his arm during storms, and squeal with joy every time Cutis came into view.

But now, Lulu was gone.

Cutis felt a chill creep up his spine. He checked the usual spots: the low branch where Lulu liked to swing, the windowsill where he sometimes napped, and the basket by the fire. Nothing.

He searched the barn, calling gently. “Lulu, little one, where are you? Come on, it’s breakfast time.”

But only silence answered.

Hours passed. The sun climbed higher, and still, no sign of the little monkey. Cutis’s heart pounded as he ventured into the edge of the forest. He left small pieces of fruit behind him, just in case Lulu was nearby and hungry. Birds chirped, leaves rustled, but the familiar tiny chatter of his beloved monkey was nowhere to be heard.

By midday, Cutis was covered in sweat, his hands scraped from pushing through underbrush and branches. He wasn’t just worried anymore—he was scared.

Then he heard it.

A soft, desperate squeak.

“Lulu?” he whispered, freezing.

He turned toward the sound, heart thudding. The cry came again—faint and high-pitched. He rushed through the trees and stumbled upon a sight that made his breath catch.

There, tangled in a patch of thorny vines, was Lulu. The little monkey looked weak, his tiny arm caught between the branches. His fur was dirty and matted, and his eyes were filled with fear.

“Oh no, baby,” Cutis gasped, dropping to his knees.

He reached out carefully, murmuring comfort as he worked to untangle the thorns. Lulu whimpered, but when he saw Cutis’s face, he let out a soft sigh and stopped struggling.

After what felt like forever, Cutis pulled Lulu free and cradled him in his arms. The baby monkey clung to him weakly, his body trembling. Tears welled up in Cutis’s eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve protected you better.”

He carried Lulu home, wrapped him in a warm cloth, and cleaned his wounds with the gentlest touch. He boiled water for milk and fed Lulu drop by drop, whispering softly the whole time.

That night, Cutis sat beside the fire with Lulu curled against his chest. But even as the monkey began to sleep, Cutis couldn’t stop the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

Why had Lulu wandered off? Was he unhappy? Had Cutis done something wrong?

Days passed, and Lulu slowly began to regain his strength. But Cutis couldn’t shake the haunting feeling that something was broken—not just in Lulu’s body, but in their world.

Then, one morning, as Cutis was feeding the chickens, he noticed something strange. Lulu was sitting by the fence, staring into the trees. Not with fear, but with longing.

Cutis knelt beside him. “What is it, little one?”

Lulu turned to him and then looked back at the woods.

And that’s when Cutis realized.

Lulu had been looking for something.

Or… someone.

That afternoon, Cutis returned to the spot where he had found Lulu trapped. He followed a trail he hadn’t seen before, deeper into the forest. And then—he froze.

A small clearing. A hollow tree.

Inside… was a baby monkey. Just like Lulu.

Only this one didn’t move.

Cutis’s heart sank.

The tiny body lay curled in the leaves, no longer breathing. Cutis knelt, his hands shaking. There were signs of illness—nothing Cutis could have known, but it was clear Lulu had come here searching for a sibling or a friend… and had found only loss.

Tears streamed down Cutis’s face as he sat quietly beside the small monkey. He gently placed some flowers around the body, whispering a quiet goodbye. He knew now what Lulu had felt: the grief, the confusion, the pull to return to a past that was no longer there.

When he returned to the farm, Lulu climbed onto his shoulder and nuzzled into his neck. It was a long, silent embrace. But something had changed.

They both had

Cutis knew that from now on, Lulu wasn’t just a rescued monkey. He was a creature who had lost, who had mourned—and who had chosen to come back.

Over time, Lulu healed, and so did Cutis. The bond they shared grew even stronger. Cutis made sure Lulu always had space to explore, but he also built a small safe haven near the forest’s edge—just in case Lulu ever wanted to visit the place of memories.

Sometimes, when the sun set and painted the sky in soft orange and pink, Cutis would sit with Lulu in the grass. He would whisper stories and promises. That he would never let Lulu feel alone again. That home would always be safe. And that love—true love—was never broken, only made deeper by the trials they endured together.

And so, the farmer and the little monkey continued their journey, side by side, hearts forever connected by a bond stronger than words.