It was a bright morning on the edge of the forest, where the farm met the wild hills. Dew still clung to the tall grass, and birds chirped cheerfully from the trees. But for CUTIS, the smart and curious little monkey, something felt off. He sat on a branch above the goat pen, eyes alert, tail twitching nervously. Something was coming… he could feel it.
Goat, his best friend on the farm, was happily munching away at a pile of hay, oblivious to the world around her. CUTIS adored Goat. She was gentle, calm, and always shared her snacks. They often napped together under the shade tree or played gentle tag around the farm tools. But today, CUTIS couldn’t relax.
There had been strange sounds from the woods last night — snapping branches, low growls, and even a sharp bark or two. The farmer, Mr. Kien, had muttered something about wild dogs being spotted nearby. CUTIS didn’t like the sound of that at all. Wild dogs were dangerous — fast, hungry, and unpredictable.
As Goat wandered toward the fence closest to the woods, CUTIS followed silently from above. He scanned the treeline carefully, his heart pounding. And then he saw it.
Movement.
A flash of brown fur, a slinking body low to the ground — it was a wild dog, just as he feared! CUTIS froze. The dog crept closer, eyes locked on Goat. She was too far to hear him if he called. CUTIS had only seconds to act.
Without thinking, he sprang into action.
CUTIS leaped from the tree, somersaulted in midair, and landed on the fence post with perfect balance. He screeched loudly, flapping his arms, trying to distract the dog. Goat lifted her head, confused. The dog paused, startled, then lowered its body again, preparing to pounce.
CUTIS wasn’t going to let that happen.
He grabbed a nearby stick — not heavy, but sharp — and launched it like a spear. It struck the ground near the wild dog’s feet. The dog yelped and jumped back. CUTIS took that moment to rush forward, yelling, waving his arms, doing everything he could to appear bigger and scarier.
Goat finally realized something was wrong. She bolted toward the barn. The dog noticed and began chasing after her — but CUTIS blocked its path. He jumped on its back, pulling at its fur, screeching into its ears.
The wild dog spun wildly, trying to shake CUTIS off. They tumbled across the dirt in a whirlwind of fur and limbs. CUTIS bit and scratched with all his strength. The dog snapped its jaws, barely missing his tail.
And then—suddenly—CUTIS was thrown off, landing hard near the water trough.
The world spun around him. Pain throbbed in his shoulder. He struggled to get up, eyes blurry. The dog was still coming. Goat had made it to the barn, but now CUTIS was alone.
Just when it looked like the dog was going to lunge for him again, something surprising happened.
A loud yell.
CRACK
Mr. Kien had arrived, shotgun in hand — not to shoot, but to fire into the air and scare the predator away. The wild dog skidded to a stop, ears flattening, tail dropping. With a low growl, it turned and bolted back into the forest.
CUTIS collapsed, exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open. Mr. Kien rushed to him, scooping him into his arms.
“You brave little thing,” he murmured, stroking CUTIS’s head. “You saved her…”
Goat peeked her head from the barn, letting out a soft bleat of concern. She trotted over and nudged CUTIS gently with her nose. The bond between them was unbreakable.
For the next few days, CUTIS rested in the farmer’s house, wrapped in a soft blanket and treated to sweet fruits and careful massages. Goat visited him every day, often curling up beside him and staying for hours.
Word of CUTIS’s bravery spread throughout the village. Kids came to visit, bringing him tiny flowers and bananas. Mr. Kien even carved a little wooden medal that read:
“Hero of the Farm”
But while the ending seemed happy, something changed in CUTIS. He wasn’t just the curious monkey anymore — he was now a protector. He began keeping watch from higher branches, learning the signs of danger, helping Mr. Kien secure the fences, and even teaching the younger goats to stay away from the woods.
One afternoon, as the sun dipped low and golden light bathed the farm, Goat and CUTIS sat side by side by the pond. She nuzzled him gently, and he leaned against her soft fur. The wind rustled through the trees, but it no longer felt threatening.
CUTIS had faced danger head-on, and though he had been scared — so nervous — he never backed down when it mattered. He had proven that even the smallest protector could stand tall when someone they loved was at risk.
And the ending?
It wasn’t just a story of survival.
It was the beginning of a legend.
A tale of courage, friendship, and fierce loyalty… all born behind a humble farm fence.
CUTIS, the brave little monkey, had not only protected Goat. He had become a symbol of what true love and bravery look like — even in the face of fear.
