It was a quiet afternoon on the little farm where Farmer Cutis lived. Birds chirped in the trees, and the wind rustled the leaves gently. But inside the monkey enclosure, things were far from peaceful. Baby Lu, the youngest monkey in the troop, was curled up in a soft blanket, sniffling and coughing.
Farmer Cutis had noticed early that morning that Lu wasn’t his usual cheerful self. Normally, the playful monkey would be swinging from the trees, chasing butterflies, or climbing all over Cutis’s shoulders. But today, Lu had barely eaten a banana and looked pale and sluggish.
“I think you caught a cold, little buddy,” Cutis said gently as he knelt beside the baby monkey. He placed a gentle hand on Lu’s head. “You’re warm. You need rest.”
He tucked Lu into a cozy spot with a small towel and brought over warm soup made from sweet vegetables and herbs. Lu took a few sips but then whimpered softly and reached out his tiny hands toward Cutis.
“Aw, I know you want to play,” Cutis said with a smile. “But you’re not feeling well. You need to stay here and get better.”
Lu didn’t give up easily. His big, glassy eyes pleaded with Cutis. He grabbed onto Cutis’s shirt and made soft cooing sounds, trying to convince him. The monkey’s energy was low, but his spirit was still strong. He wanted to go outside, to feel the sun on his fur and forget about being sick. To him, rest felt like punishment.
Cutis sat down and cradled the baby monkey gently, rubbing his back. “Let’s wait a little, alright? When you’re better, we’ll go for a walk. I promise.”
But Lu had another plan. As soon as Cutis turned to fetch more soup, the little monkey struggled to his feet, climbed out of his blanket, and tried to follow. His legs wobbled, and he nearly tumbled over, but determination lit his eyes.
Just then, Thuy — Lu’s mother — appeared. She had been gathering leaves from the far end of the enclosure and hadn’t seen the entire scene. The moment she saw her sick baby out of bed, walking around in the chilly breeze, her eyes widened in shock.
She rushed over with a speed only a worried mother could manage. Her face showed a mix of anger, fear, and disbelief.
“Eek! Eek!” she screeched, running to Lu and scooping him up in her arms.
Cutis turned around in surprise. “Thuy, it’s okay! He just got up — I was trying to get him to rest.”
But Thuy wasn’t in the mood for explanations. She glared at Cutis and held Lu close to her chest. Her tail twitched furiously as she fussed over the baby, wrapping him tightly and grooming his fur with quick, frantic strokes
Cutis felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He hadn’t meant for Lu to get up. He was just trying to help. But clearly, the mother monkey was terrified.
“Alright, alright,” he said softly, stepping back to give them space. “You’re right. He needs you now more than anything.”
Lu, nestled in his mother’s arms, let out a soft sneeze and closed his eyes. The excitement had drained him, and now he leaned into her warmth.
Thuy turned away from Cutis and settled into a corner with her baby. Her eyes stayed fixed on him for a long while, watching every breath. Eventually, she softened just a little and looked back at the farmer.
“I know,” Cutis whispered, crouching down. “You’re scared. You’re protecting him.”
He sat there for a moment, just observing the two. The bond between Thuy and Lu was powerful. Even though Cutis had become like a father figure to many of the monkeys on the farm, nothing could replace a mother’s love — especially not when her baby was unwell.
The next day, Lu was still sick, but slightly better. He drank more of his soup and even smiled a little when Cutis brought him a soft stuffed animal. Thuy allowed Cutis to sit closer this time but kept Lu in her arms.
By the third day, Lu’s strength had returned enough that he squealed with joy when Cutis arrived. He leapt into his arms, nuzzling under his chin. This time, Thuy didn’t screech. She stood nearby, watching — still cautious, but no longer angry.
“Feeling better, huh?” Cutis said cheerfully. “You’ll be running around again in no time.”
And true to those words, a few days later, Lu was back to swinging from branches and playing tag with the other young monkeys. Thuy even allowed Cutis to take him out for a short walk in the sunshine — under her watchful eye, of course.
Cutis had learned something important. While he cared deeply for all the animals, there were moments when even his gentle approach couldn’t match a mother’s fierce love. He respected that, more than ever.
He began including Thuy more in Lu’s care, offering treats to her first, asking for her permission with a respectful bow of his head — a small gesture, but one she seemed to understand.
In the end, the little misunderstanding became a moment of growth. Lu had pushed his limits, Cutis had realized the importance of slowing down, and Thuy had seen that Cutis wasn’t trying to take over — just trying to help.
On one golden morning, with the sun shining down and a gentle breeze in the air, Cutis, Thuy, and Lu walked together through the garden. Lu held Cutis’s finger with one hand and clung to his mom’s fur with the other, his laughter ringing out like bells.
From that day on, Cutis knew that care wasn’t just about providing food or medicine. It was about listening — to the animals, to their body language, and to their needs. It was about patience, respect, and working together.
And as for Lu? He still tried to sneak out and play, even when he had a tiny cough. But now, every time, Cutis would smile, shake his head, and say, “Not yet, little rascal. Let’s ask Mom first.”
And that was enough to keep the peace — and the love — flowing on the farm.
