It was supposed to be an ordinary afternoon at the peaceful countryside homestead. The sun was shining through the tall banana trees, the wind rustled gently across the rice paddies, and inside their cozy shelter, Mama monkey Thuy was lounging with her baby, Lala, grooming her fur and humming softly. Everything was calm—until CUTIS showed up.
CUTIS, the ever-curious and bold-hearted farmer, had been out on one of his usual long walks. He was known around the village for his love of animals, especially his mischievous monkey companions. But today, CUTIS had done something totally unexpected—something even Lala and Thuy, who thought they knew him inside and out, couldn’t have imagined.
He brought home a stranger.
Not just any stranger—a tall, scruffy man with an oversized backpack, long tangled hair, and eyes that scanned the place like he was sizing it up for sale. CUTIS, ever trusting, had apparently met him near the riverbank. The man claimed he was a traveler who had lost his way, and CUTIS, in his big-hearted way, invited him to stay the night.
“Come on in, buddy!” CUTIS called out as he walked up the front path, waving the man forward. “You’ll love this place—very peaceful, and the monkeys are family.”
But the moment Thuy saw the stranger step through the gate, everything changed.
She froze mid-grooming, her eyes narrowing. Then, suddenly, she let out a high-pitched scream that echoed through the trees. Baby Lala clung to her mother’s side, her tiny heart racing. She, too, shrieked in alarm.
“EEE-EEE-EEE!”
CUTIS blinked in confusion. “Hey, what’s going on?” he said, turning toward Thuy and Lala. “He’s just a guest.”
But Thuy wasn’t having it. She stood up on her hind legs, her arms flailing and her voice sharp with warning. She didn’t trust the man—her instincts screamed that something was wrong. The last time a stranger had come near, it hadn’t ended well. That visitor had tried to chase Lala. Thuy had never forgotten.
Lala climbed up on her mom’s back and started crying. Her little face was wrinkled with fear as she peeked at the man from behind Thuy’s neck.
CUTIS raised his hands. “Okay, okay! Calm down! He’s not going to hurt anyone!”
But the commotion was just beginning.
Thuy leaped onto the bamboo table, knocking over a bowl of bananas, and pointed accusingly at the man, screeching louder.
“AAAH-AAH-AAAAH!”
The man looked stunned. “What’s her problem?”
CUTIS scratched his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. She’s never reacted like this.”
The tension in the air was thick. Thuy wouldn’t stop pacing on the table. Every time the stranger made a move, she reacted with a fresh burst of anger. CUTIS tried to speak calmly, tried to reason with her—but it was no use. Lala started imitating her mom, squeaking and throwing bits of grass at the man.
The message was clear: You’re not welcome here.
The traveler grew uneasy. “Maybe I should just go,” he said, stepping back.
“No, wait,” CUTIS insisted. “I think they just need time to warm up to you.”
But he was wrong.
Thuy leapt down from the table and grabbed one of CUTIS’s work gloves, hurling it at the man. She had never acted this aggressively before. CUTIS realized something deeper was going on—this wasn’t just about a stranger. It was about trust, territory, and protection. Thuy was a mother. Her first instinct was always to protect her baby.
And CUTIS had failed to consider that.
He sighed and looked at Thuy. “You’re right, aren’t you?” he muttered. “I brought someone home without thinking.”
The traveler took another step back. “Seriously, man. This is too intense.”
CUTIS finally nodded. “You should probably go. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked them first.”
The man shrugged, clearly relieved. “No hard feelings. I get it. Thanks for the offer anyway.”
As he walked away, CUTIS stood at the gate, watching. Then he turned back toward the still-agitated monkeys.
“Thuy, Lala,” he said softly, “I messed up. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Thuy stopped pacing. She stared at him, her breath still fast, but her eyes softened just a little. She picked up Lala and hugged her close, rocking gently.
CUTIS walked slowly toward them and knelt down. “Next time, I’ll be more careful. I promise.”
Lala peeked at him, her tearful eyes still cautious. But she didn’t cry again.
Thuy eventually climbed onto CUTIS’s shoulder, her favorite perch, and gave him a gentle pat on the head—as if to say, “Just don’t do that again.”
The chaos faded. The homestead returned to calm. The birds resumed singing. CUTIS took a deep breath.
Lesson learned.
CUTIS had always thought of himself as a protector, a friend, a caregiver. But today, he realized he wasn’t the only one looking out for this little family. Thuy had reminded him that the home they shared wasn’t just his to control—it was sacred ground, guarded by instinct and love.
And Lala? She stayed close to her mother for the rest of the day, but before sunset, she offered CUTIS a half-eaten banana—her way of forgiving him.
CUTIS chuckled and ruffled her head. “Thanks, kiddo. I’ll be better.”
From that day on, CUTIS made a rule: No strangers without monkey approval.
And peace, once again, reigned in their quirky little home.
