Monkey Junio was unlike the others—he carried the heart of a gentle guardian. Each morning, while the little ones stirred with sleepy eyes, Junio prepared a ritual of care. He had learned that tiny baby monkeys, still fragile and new to the world, needed warmth and comfort beyond just food.
With patient hands, he applied warm oil across their soft fur, rubbing it gently into their little bodies. The warmth seeped through, soothing their tiny muscles, chasing away the night’s chill. The babies wriggled at first, some squeaking and fidgeting, but soon they relaxed, their eyes half-closing as if enjoying a tender massage. Junio’s touch was both protective and calming, a promise that they were safe.
But his care didn’t stop there. After the oiling, he prepared their nourishment—a bottle of rich, nutritious milk. He knew every sip mattered, giving them strength to grow, to play, and to face the new day. One by one, the babies curled into his arms, their little mouths latching eagerly onto the bottle. Their cries softened into quiet slurps, their restless squirming replaced by the peace of being fed.
For Junio, it wasn’t just about keeping them alive—it was about giving them love and dignity, showing that even the smallest deserved tender care. Under his watch, the baby monkeys grew not only healthier but also happier, their bond with him deepening each day.
In his hands, oil brought warmth, milk brought strength, and love brought hope. Junio was more than a monkey—he was a caretaker, a lifeline, and a gentle father to those who had no one else.
