A few small monkeys
were born and raised in a forest, near a village. They came from a species of
monkeys that did not grow much. That afternoon a couple of monkeys had just
abandoned his little son. He did
not want to return to life. He had just opened his eyes.
The little monkey was
hanging from a branch of a tree. At the foot of the tree there were some stray
dogs that were barking toward a herd of small monkeys that were hanged on tree.
When the little monkey fell off tree, those dogs who seemed to have no owners,
they began to bark. The little monkey had
his eyes half open. The little monkey would die, he had very little time to
live.
One of these dogs
approached him, seemed going to bite to little monkey that remained motionless
and unblinking his eyes.
Other dogs imitated the
fiercest, which was the guide. Still they kept barking up the little monkey.
An old woman was walking
very close to that forest. She had the
look of being very helpful. The best thing she held in her soul was a taste
very, very attached to pets. She adored animals cared for many decades in an
office where animals passed quarantine. Good tongues said that in her youth
came to have almost a zoo at home. She also took care of abandoned animals. That
splendor of her youth had passed. She just wanted peace in her old age , and
walk , walk as she did in those moments when some fierce dogs tried to bite to
the creature that had fallen from that height from a leafy tree that grew in
that forest.
The old woman when she
saw these predators near the little monkey, she “started barking” like those
dogs. She was wishing that the dogs desisted their efforts to bite to the
little monkey that was dying on the floor.
“Hey!” The old woman screamed,
“I hope you stay away from small monkey, evil dogs ... You do not dare to bite
him.”
“Woof! Go away, old
woman,” said a dog, “It is not her issue! Woof, woof!”
The dogs had no
intention of obeying her. While the old woman was shouting more to dogs, these
beasts were approaching to the little monkey a little more with intentions to
bite him.
The old woman chose
another tactic: she took up her cane. She pointed toward the dogs with his
cane. The old woman was doing that for over half an hour. The little monkey stopped moving. The head of the pack of
dogs retired with his henchmen behind his tail.
Indeed the old woman
did not understand why the dogs were gone. The dogs had not bitten to the
little monkey. They had abandoned their prey.
When she was closer to
the little monkey, with her cane began to touch him. She did not see him a
trail of blood. He had just closed his
eyes. The old woman did not know if forever. With mother’s compassion, she
reached down and took him in her arms. That little monkey did not weigh even a
kilo, or one pound. He was dying. Worse, he was delirious by a disease called hunger.
Of course the old woman
did not know what the little monkey was suffering. Otherwise, it would be very
difficult that she had carried with that very thin little monkey.
She wrapped him in a
sweatshirt she was wearing. It had
been raining for several days. The weather had brought an outbreak of flu in
humans very strong in those days. Small monkeys and other animals also suffered
from other diseases, other than what ailed the specimen that the old woman was
carrying. Only, this disease, is cured with food.
“A creature more,” said the old woman, “a creature that
does not bother.”
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