It had been a while since I last saw baby monkey Cici. She had grown a little, her fur was slightly thicker, and her movements more confident — but something had changed. As I slowly walked toward her, holding the familiar milk bottle and softly calling her name, she didn’t react the way I had expected.
Cici stood still on the wooden platform, her small hands gripping the edge, eyes wide and uncertain. Her head tilted slightly, studying me like I was a stranger. It broke my heart. This was the little one I used to hold every day, feed every few hours, and cuddle through every scared cry. But now, it seemed like she didn’t remember me at all.
I crouched down a few feet away, keeping calm so I wouldn’t scare her. I gently called her name again: “Cici… it’s me.” My voice softened, and I opened my hands — no sudden movements, just quiet patience. Slowly, her nose twitched. She took a hesitant step forward. Then another. Her eyes locked with mine.
And then it happened.
She let out a small, familiar squeak — that special little sound she always made when she felt safe. She rushed into my arms, climbed onto my lap, and clung tightly. I could feel her little heartbeat racing as she buried her face into my chest. It was as if the memory had returned all at once.
She remembered.
That moment reminded me how delicate trust is — especially for orphaned or rescued monkeys like Cici. Even a short time apart can feel like forever to them. But love, care, and presence can rebuild that bond. Cici’s little hug said more than words ever could: she was home again, and she knew she was loved. 🐒💛
