In the quiet corner of the sanctuary, baby monkey Leo was playing near the muddy path—his tiny hands patting the soft ground, his eyes full of curiosity. But the peaceful moment didn’t last long.
Mom Libby, known for her strict nature, was already on the move. She wanted Leo to follow her, but the little one hesitated, still busy with his play.
That hesitation angered her.
With a sudden motion, Libby grabbed Leo roughly by the arm, yanking him from his spot. The baby squealed in surprise, his legs slipping on the muddy surface. He didn’t get a chance to walk—he was dragged through the wet, sticky earth, struggling to stay upright.
Mud splashed onto his fur. His tiny cries filled the air, pleading with his mother to stop. But Libby was firm—too firm. She gave him another rough tug, and he tumbled again, landing with a thud, his hands covering his face.
Nearby caretakers watched in shock. One quickly intervened, scooping Leo up into their arms. The baby clung tightly, shivering with confusion and fear, his tiny heart pounding. His eyes, filled with tears and mud, kept looking back at Libby—still hoping for comfort that never came.
Later, he was washed gently, wrapped in a towel, and fed with warm milk. The trauma lingered in his eyes, but he began to calm down in the safety of gentle arms.
