It was a bright and breezy morning in the backyard, and little baby monkey Minea was full of curiosity as always. She had just finished her breakfast and was exploring the garden with wobbly steps, her eyes scanning every corner for something new.
That’s when she saw it—a cozy little corner under the tree where a fluffy hen, known as “Mommy Chicken,” had built her nest.
Minea, thinking it was just a pile of soft leaves, waddled closer with innocent excitement. She giggled and reached out to touch the eggs, wanting to feel the smooth shells beneath her fingers.
But before she could even brush them—WHOOSH!
Mommy Chicken flapped her wings in a fury, letting out an angry cluck that echoed across the yard. Her feathers puffed, her beak pointed straight at Minea, and her eyes blazed with protective rage.
“Eeep!” Minea squealed in surprise.
The chicken charged, pecking at the ground near her feet, wings flapping wild. Minea panicked, turned around, and scrambled away on all fours, her tiny heart pounding.
She ran straight into the arms of her human dad, who had heard the noise and rushed over.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, lifting her up. “That chicken was just protecting her babies.”
Minea clung to him, sniffling, but slowly calmed down. A few minutes later, wrapped in a soft towel and cradled safely, she watched the chicken from a distance.
Lesson learned: not all fluffy things want to play.
Later, with a bottle in hand and her head resting on Dad’s shoulder, Minea gave a tiny giggle—scared, yes, but also proud she had survived the wrath of a mommy chicken.
