In the warm, quiet room, a tiny baby monkey named Ponloeu had just arrived. He had been rescued and adopted only hours ago. Still wrapped in a soft towel, he looked around with wide, lost eyes. No mother, no familiar scent—only the touch of kind human hands.
As he lay on the blanket, Ponloeu gently sucked his tiny thumb, a habit from when he used to nurse. But now, his mother was gone, and he had been weaned too early. The comfort he once knew was replaced with confusion, sadness, and silence.
His new human mom sat nearby, watching him with a soft heart. She had seen many rescues before—but this little one was different. His quiet thumb-sucking wasn’t just habit—it was grief, it was longing.
She reached out gently and placed her hand on his back. Ponloeu flinched at first, unsure. Then, slowly, he leaned into her palm, still sucking his thumb. He was scared… but he needed love.
The caretaker carefully wrapped medical tape around his tiny wrist—not to hurt, but to gently help him stop thumb-sucking over time, as part of weaning. He looked at her with wide eyes, confused but calm. She kissed his head softly and whispered, “You’re safe now, baby. We’ll take care of you.”
She offered a warm milk bottle, held close to her chest. After a moment’s pause, Ponloeu reached out, dropping his thumb, and took it.
As the milk warmed his belly and the soft hum of the caretaker filled the room, his little eyelids began to droop.
The thumb was no longer needed.
Now, he had warmth.
He had milk.
And he was no longer alone.
