The day started out just like any other in the quiet countryside where CUTIS the farmer lived. The sun cast a golden hue over the rice fields, birds chirped from the treetops, and the scent of damp soil filled the morning air. CUTIS, the ever-watchful guardian and caregiver, had already begun his day tending to the animals and crops. But today would turn out to be anything but ordinary. It would be the day CUTIS risked everything to protect the baby monkey—his newest and most curious companion—from a storm no one expected: Mom’s wrath.
The baby monkey, named Bobo, was only a few weeks old when CUTIS found him abandoned near the edge of the forest. Skinny, scared, and with eyes far too big for his tiny frame, Bobo had instantly won CUTIS’s heart. Since that day, they had been inseparable. Bobo rode on CUTIS’s shoulder as he worked, played with the chickens, and even tried to help with gardening—though that usually resulted in more chaos than progress.
However, there was one person Bobo hadn’t quite won over—his mother. A massive, strong, and highly protective female monkey who had been watching from the forest ever since Bobo was taken in. CUTIS never dared get too close to her. She was wild, untamed, and carried an air of authority that even CUTIS respected. But she hadn’t shown any aggression—until now.
It began when Bobo wandered off one late afternoon, as CUTIS was stacking firewood. Bobo had grown adventurous, always eager to explore. He slipped through a gap in the bamboo fence and scampered toward the nearby trees. CUTIS didn’t worry at first; Bobo always returned when he called. But minutes turned into half an hour. Then an hour. Panic began to gnaw at CUTIS’s stomach.
He set off down the trail, calling Bobo’s name. The forest grew darker as the sun dropped below the horizon. Then, suddenly, CUTIS heard a sharp screech echo through the trees—followed by whimpering. He pushed through the brush and there, under a twisted fig tree, he saw the silhouette of Bobo cowering, and standing over him—his mother.
The mother monkey was massive in comparison, her fur bristled and her eyes glowing with fury. She screeched again, towering above her baby. It was as if she didn’t recognize him—or worse, thought he had been tainted by human contact. Her maternal instincts had twisted into anger. CUTIS saw the raised hand, sharp claws catching the last rays of sunlight, ready to strike.
Without thinking, without even assessing the danger, CUTIS dove between them.
“STOP!” he shouted, shielding Bobo with his body.
The mother monkey froze mid-motion. Her eyes locked onto CUTIS’s. The tension in the air was electric. The forest went quiet.
CUTIS didn’t move, didn’t blink. His heart pounded in his chest, but his arms stayed firmly wrapped around the trembling baby monkey. The mother snarled, teeth bared, and let out a guttural growl. She lunged.
Her claw grazed CUTIS’s arm, drawing blood. He didn’t flinch.
“Don’t hurt him,” he said, voice low but firm. “He’s your baby. He was just lost. I was just trying to help.”
For a moment, time stopped. The mother hesitated. Then, slowly, she stepped back. Her heavy breathing slowed, and her eyes moved to Bobo, who peeked out from CUTIS’s arms, his little hand reaching toward her. The fierce mother’s face softened. A quiet whimper escaped her lips.
She reached out, gently this time, and brushed Bobo’s cheek with the back of her hand.
CUTIS watched, stunned, as the mother crouched and opened her arms. Bobo squealed with joy and leapt into her embrace. It was a moment of pure reconciliation. But CUTIS’s relief was short-lived. As the mother turned to leave with Bobo in her arms, she gave CUTIS one last look. A mix of gratitude and warning. She knew he meant well—but he was still human. And her world was wild.
CUTIS stood there, blood dripping from his arm, heart shattered and yet somehow full. He had just given up the little friend he’d grown to love like family. But it was the right thing. Bobo belonged with his mother. Still, the pain of loss gripped him tightly.
Days passed.
The farm felt quieter. Empty. CUTIS kept up his work, but every rustling leaf made him look over his shoulder. Every breeze through the trees felt like a whisper from Bobo. Nights were the hardest—no little feet scampering through the house, no warm body curling up beside him.
Then, one morning, something unbelievable happened.
As CUTIS walked toward the field, he noticed a strange figure sitting on the fence post. A flash of gray fur. He froze.
Bobo
But he wasn’t alone. His mother was there too—sitting calmly just a few feet away, watching silently. Bobo leapt down and rushed toward CUTIS, wrapping his tiny arms around his leg. CUTIS knelt, tears filling his eyes, and scooped him up.
The mother didn’t move. Instead, she made a low sound—a gentle grunt—and turned back toward the trees.
From that day on, Bobo visited every morning. He always returned to the forest with his mother by sunset. But the bond between CUTIS and Bobo was never broken. In time, the mother even allowed CUTIS to feed her from a distance. The wall between the wild and the human had been breached—not through force or control, but through love, protection, and selfless courage.
CUTIS’s reckless dive had not only protected a baby monkey from harm—it had changed the course of three lives.
And that, perhaps, is the most unbelievable part of all.
