Monkey was a dog with skills.

Unfortunately, the humans around him didn’t let him use those skills to their fullest, most glorious expression.

He got to play chase, sure.

But chasing and catching toys was not the same as living life as a wild vagabond hunter.

You see, what Monkey was, was a natural born slayer. It was a skill not appreciated by the two-legged vegetarian in his household.

Monkey didn’t understand. And as much as he LOVED TENNIS BALLS SO MUCH, he always felt just a little oppressed.

Until the zombies came.

The great zombie apocalypse was a tragedy to the human world, no doubt. It was rough for a lot of the other animals too. For that, Monkey felt bad.

But he was in his element.

He was a fluffly apocalypse survival machine. The perfect, low-riding blend of stealth and skill and pure joy. He kept watch for zombies and put food on the fire every night.

His humans became a lot more lax with brushing out the trademark leaves and bits of nature he carefully rolled and romped into his fur.

Gone were words like gentle and drop it. He still had to come when called but it was okay because that one was always his favorite anyway.

And now when he came sprinting jubilantly at his humans with his newest victory clutched proudly in his smiling jaws, they smiled right back.

*Author’s Note: Soulbeast Studios does not in any way condone the slaying of living creatures small or large by zombies, Monkeys, or otherwise. Do you share your life with a fluffy slayer like Monkey? Teach him or her the world’s most solid recall & drop it skills and give him appropriate outlets for his instincts like lure coursing, flirt pole play, treiball or a good old game of fetch!

These books are not yet published. Interested in publishing or illustrating? Email amy@soulbeaststudios.com!

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