Wednesday, July 1, 2015

When life gives you lemons

When life gives you lemons - make lemonade. This is the mantra that Dooki has been leading his whole life by. I cannot help but feel a tinge of regret that life just didn't turn out better for him. 

Dooki was born in the shelter on 15 June 2012. His arrival was unexpected because we didn't know his mother Daphne was pregnant. We had just rescued her from an offshore island a few days back.

Daphne's pregnancy was traumatic. She had to endure the process of being captured and ferried to our main island. She originally delivered seven puppies but two died at birth. 

Dooki was the runt of the litter. He was set apart from his siblings by his distinct white front paws. We refrained from naming the puppies to avoid forming any attachment to them. We were determined to find homes for them fast. We didn't want them growing up at the shelter.

Baby Dooks, the tiniest in the litter.

So for a very long time, Dooki was known to us as White Paws... Until Wee got disgruntled that he was still nameless after all this while and named him Dooki. Now that he had a name, he belonged somewhere. 

In the time when the puppies were being weaned but were still too young to be vaccinated, we were worried. They were most vulnerable in an environment like the shelter. We sought to find homes for them quickly. Dooki was one of those shuffled off for a trial homestay by a potential adopter. 

Toddler Dooki

We were alarmed when the potential adopter reported that Dooki had vomited more than five times in a row at their place. He was sent to the vet for medical attention. To our dismay, he was gravely ill with parvovirus, a lethal puppy killer. The vet said that Dooki's condition was critical. They instructed that we send all his other siblings for testing immediately.

Dooki was warded for a long time. In the first couple of days, he hovered dangerously close to death's door. Every day we were worried we would get a phone call bearing bad news. 

The image of that tiny solitary puppy with those innocent eyes behind the glass enclosure made us feel incredibly sorry for him. He was hooked up to so many tubes. Even the smallest e-collar looked oversized for his tiny neck.

Absolutely nobody could look at this and not feel sorry for him.

We underestimated the strength of this brave little one. He made it through the worst and eventually pulled through. As he was nearing discharge, we began to fret about foster care. He was in no state to go back to the shelter. 

Only a puppy but he was strong.

We were desperate. We went around pulling favours from people who might be able to take him for a while, until he was adopted. It was difficult to find someone because Dooki was still a young puppy who needed round the clock attention. 

We were delighted when a potential adopter who had volunteered previously at the shelter stepped up to take him for a trial. They named him Loki and took great care of him. Unfortunately, they eventually decided that they weren't ready for the commitment of a canine addition to their young family. They agreed to keep Dooki until we made other foster arrangements. 

Back when he was known as Loki.

Dooki next headed to the home of a relative of one of our adopters. He was tiny, adorable and very intelligent. It was pretty easy for the children to love him. 

He was exposed to children from a young age.

But it was never meant to be long term as the family had a sickly grandparent at home. In the course of the foster care, we continued to search high and low for a suitable home for Dooki. 

How much he had gone through for one so young!

We were thrilled when a potential adopter approached us on Facebook indicating her interest to adopt. A trial homestay was arranged. The family decided to go through with the adoption after two weeks. 

We sent him to the potential adopter's place for his trial.

When we went to pay a visit to sign the adoption papers, Dooki had grown so much bigger. He was a hyperactive puppy with boundless energy. We could hardly take a photo of him without him racing off to somewhere else. He certainly kept the family on their toes. They enrolled him in an obedience class. We heard he was sharp, intelligent and quite the performer. Most of all, we were heartened to see that he was healthy. They renamed him Zeus. 

During the house visit.

Life went on for another six months. One day, the family informed us that they were downgrading and would be temporarily staying with a relative. They had adopted another dog after Dooki. They would not be able to keep both of them and had decided to let Dooki go. 

The day that Dooki returned to the shelter, he was happy, curious and blissfully ignorant. He was under the impression that they were all on a jolly excursion to the shelter. While he was busy exploring and meeting other dogs, his family handed over his things and quietly left. Probably the most heartbreaking of all was the moment it dawned on him that they were gone and had not brought him along.

That moment of realisation.

From that day on, life pretty much got tough. Dooki had to adjust to the shelter, a place where he had few memories. He was back to being Dooki again - not Loki, not Zeus. Life seemed to like throwing curveballs his way. 

The shelter can be a pretty noisy and stressful place. The dogs' excitement tends to rub off on one another. When something gets them excited, they would zoom around the kennel in delirium and bark loudly. Some would run into the crate for cover. A few like Dooki would begin to nip. 

A bad habit begins.

It was a bad habit that grew more apparent with time. The greater we reacted to the nipping, the more Dooks would think we were playing with him and the worse it became. Not everyone could handle it. We found ourselves advising volunteers to walk briskly out of the kennel whenever he grew overexcited. We also had trouble leashing him because he would race around the kennel happily like it was a game. We often had to lure him with treats so that another one of us could deftly slip the leash over his head. 

He only wanted to play...

But all of that did not characterise Dooki. What made him quintessentially Dooki was his responsiveness to people. He loved affection. Whenever we reached out to give him a scratch, he would lean in onto us fondly. Put your face close to his and he would lick you lovingly. 

He was loved by many.

Once he was leashed, Dooki walked beautifully. For a dog in his teenage years, he ought to be a tugger - but he never was. Taking him out was always leisurely. 

He was the type of dog who could sit by you for hours.

Dooki also got along with other dogs. Whenever we had to reconfigure the living quarters of the dogs, we never had to worry that Dooki might not get along with a new entrant. He was even tempered that way.  

Other dogs? No problem!

Before long, Dooki became a familiar fixture at the shelter. I can't be certain when it started but we began to notice a limp in his gait. It was affecting his walking and he seemed to be in pain. 

We sent him to the clinic for a check. Scans showed he had arthritis and was suffering from grade 2 luxating patellar. In layman terms, it meant his knee cap would pop out but wouldn't always pop back in automatically. As his condition wasn't at the most severe stage, surgery was not the first option. We started him on a course of carthrophen treatment to ease the pain. He would receive monthly jabs to cope. It had worked for some of our older dogs. 

Learning to cope with the pain at the shelter. It wasn't easy.

We revisited the problem this year because Dooki's condition did not seem to improve. We sent him for a second opinion and decided to proceed with surgery. It was going to be a big year for Dooki in his already eventful life. The surgery for his right knee was scheduled on 24 March and the one for his left knee was tentatively fixed in May or June. 

On the van on the way to the clinic for his first surgery in March 2015.

Following his surgery in March, our volunteers were roped in to foster Dooki in the interim so he didn't have to return to the shelter. He went to Yik Lun's for a week and then to Venn's for four months. 

He had a long period of recuperation before him. In between, he had to return to the vet for reviews to ensure he was healing well and on course for the next surgery. We depended a great deal on the volunteers to not only care for him but also help out in the transportation to and from the clinic. We can only count ourselves lucky that so many generously pitched in. 

Post surgery, his movement had to be restricted.

During those months that he was being fostered at home, we learnt plenty about Dooki that we wouldn't have found out at the shelter. Venn tells us he is very responsive to food and in turn, easily trained. He was taught to sit and wait for his food and not to enter the kitchen. It didn't take long for him to learn to use the pee tray. She set him boundaries and he learnt to abide by them. 

Once basic commands were mastered, they moved on to the finer details of day to day grooming. At home, she tried to get Dooki accustomed to being brushed, showered, having his ears cleaned and nails trimmed without feeling overly stressed. Nail trimming remains tricky but it is a common problem for many dogs that only time and consistency can help achieve.

Comfortable at home.

What became even more apparent during this period of foster care was just how much Dooki loved human affection. Venn tells us that there isn't a day that goes by without Dooki flopping over for a belly rub the moment she touches him. When she stops, he lifts his paw to tell her to continue. The home environment has done wonders for Dooki. When he returned to the clinic for a review, the nurses expressed surprise that they could take an X-ray without needing to muzzle him. 

Waiting to see the vet.

Dooki was fast growing accustomed to a home environment. He was afraid of thunder and being at home brought him greater comfort. On sunny days, he would jump up excitedly when Venn picked up the leash. He also got along with all other dogs, big and small. Venn ran a small boarding business so he really did meet and cohabit with quite a few of them. Best of all, his nipping problem quietly disappeared over the months. When I met him again after so long, he was calmer and gentler. He looked the same, perhaps a little trimmer, but he felt a touch different from the past. That's what a stable home environment does for dogs.

A home made him different.

When Dooki went for yet another review, the vet certified that his right leg had healed beautifully. They gave the go ahead for us to proceed with the surgery on Dooki's left leg that very same week. And so we did. 

The vet remarked that the second surgery went faster and more easily than the first one. They were confident Dooki would recover well. He had already started to eat after the operation.

All his life, Dooki has learnt to make the best of a bad situation. When life gave him those lemons, he didn't make lemonade. He made orange juice and left us wondering how he did it. 

From parvovirus to failed adoptions, from coping with the pain in his knees and then to facing a difficult recovery period, Dooki has been just amazing. I wish that for a change, a great situation could just present itself to him instead. Dooks is ready for a home and there is no one more deserving. Will you be the one to turn the tide for him at last? Don't take too long to find your way to him.

This is Dooki. He is looking for love.

Dooki and many other beautiful mongrels, each with their own story, are looking for homes. Please email us at for further adoption enquiries.

Thursday, June 25, 2015

Down the rabbit hole

We stood hours laying in wait for Dessa and her siblings to come out from the narrow cave under the ground. It was 15 March 2014. She was just a four month old puppy

The kind of cave that Dessa was huddled in was the type of tunnel under the ground that only stray animals know. Did you read the much loved Roald Dahl story, Fantastic Mr Fox? It was quite like the tunnel that Mr Fox and his friends dug and dug to reach the warehouses where the farmers stored their food, except this tunnel wasn't quite so long. It was a small one, just enough for their mother, Shy to give birth to them and stow them safely away until they were old enough to walk. Even though the pups were already four months old, this place remained their safe haven. 

No one could have been aware of this inconspicuous crevice in the ground in the middle of the forest. The entrance didn't look wide enough to contain a rabbit, let alone dogs. If Wee hadn't been stray feeding the dogs here for some time and observing their behaviour closely, we would surely have been nonethewiser. 

A hole, a den, a cave? How best ought I describe this?

If you have been reading this blog, you would know we captured Demi and her brother Dawson in February 2014. We knew they had three more siblings out there. We had seen all five of them playing together when they were much younger. Though we had hoped to get them all, we were unsuccessful. The three of them were growing bigger and more wary. They would soon be out of our reach for good. 

With this long post, let me share with you the story of how the remaining three siblings of Demi and Dawson eventually came to be at Gentle Paws. Diarying it down over here also means we will never forget.

That March morning while doing his stray feeding rounds, Wee caught a glimpse of the three remaining pups in the underground cave. He realised that this was an opportune moment to capture them all. He managed to reach in and loop a leash around the neck of baby Dessa in the nick of time before she slipped deeper into the cave. When he tugged for her to come out, she froze and shrank. The other two puppies were huddled further down and out of his reach.

Reinforcement came in the form of Florence, Feng and I, who were later joined by Choo. The den was dark and visibility was poor. We shone a torch to determine where Dessa lay. We still had that leash around her neck. With the light from the torch, we could vaguely make out that she was huddled just behind a bend in the hole. The path underground wasn't straight. We took a deep breath and considered our options. We decided to make a go for it. We would give the leash one big yank to move the stubborn puppy and hope for the best. 

It worked! Dessa was extricated from the hole, scared and angry. When we tried to carry her, she snapped. We quickly wrapped her in a shirt off our backs and released her into the crate we had prepared. By the time we got her out, we had been at it for around three hours. It was humid, we were beginning to tire but most of all, it was going to get dark soon. There were two more to go.

This is Dessa, fresh from rescue

When I drove Dessa back to the shelter in the crate, Florence told me to grab a shovel. We had no choice but to widen the entrance to the cave. 

When I returned with the shovel, we started to work. We tried to keep our damage to a minimum. When the entrance was wide enough for one of us to slide headfirst into the hole, we stopped. My shoulders were the narrowest which invariably meant I could reach the furthest into the cave. By default, I became the one who would enter the rabbit hole. 

Two of them grabbed my legs as I entered the den gingerly on my back. Another held on to a flashlight so I could see. The underground tunnel was well kept. Although poorly lit, it was clean and dry. The two puppies lay at almost the half way point where the tunnel curved. I reached out, got a firm grip of the two hind legs of the pup nearer to me and gave a tug. 

My view from inside - all I saw were two white furry bottoms

I had both hands on the puppy. I needed the rest to pull me out swiftly on my call before the puppy could react and start flailing. We had always been more a shelter than a frontline rescue team. But we had been teammates for so long. Though Wee had left and the rest of us were pretty much green horns at this, there was a camaraderie amongst us that only time could build. And so we pulled it off! The puppy was retrieved safe and sound. 

We got him into the crate pretty smoothly apart from some minor fear pooping. He was later named Dodger.

Crate was closed quickly. We knew once we lost this one, we wouldn't be able to get him back

Just like that, we had only one more to go. We eventually named this final puppy Den Den to commemorate the den where we found them. As Den Den lay the furthest away, I had to inch a greater distance in to retrieve him. It was narrow and the air was dank. I only managed to get hold of one of his hindlegs nearer to me. Thankfully, he shifted slightly when I gave that leg a tug. That gave me what I needed to reach out for the other leg and pull him toward me slowly. 

I passed Den Den over to Choo once we got him out. By then, Den Den had gotten over his shock and was starting to struggle and snap. Oops! He got a good mouthful of Choo's arm. Lucky for us, Choo didn't let go and we managed to get him into the crate safely. This little one was proving to be quite gutsy! 

Den Den joins Dodger

We tried to restore the underground cave as much as possible before we headed back. Wee returned the next day to tidy up further. Meanwhile, back at the shelter, all the pups were extremely sullen. I guess it had been a long, frightening day for them. 

Very sullen puppies

I looked at Demi and Dawson, their siblings whom we had captured a month earlier. And I look back again at our freshly rescued pups that day. One more month in the wild really did make a difference. These three were much more wary. As it was late, we dry cleaned the pups, fed them and allowed them to finally get some much needed rest. 

That first evening, they refused to look at us

We were lucky we got them. Because puppies in the wild... They come with a host of underlying conditions which if left untreated meant a very low chance of survival. Puppy mortality out there was high. To prove our point, Demi, Dawson and Dessa were all diagnosed with tick fever. At the shelter, the availability of ready treatment, nutritious food and loving care meant they could recover quickly. The same couldn't be said for life in the wild.

A couple of days on, they were clean and comfortable

If you thought that was the end, well we haven't even started. Rescue work only ends with adoption and we were far from it. For the five of them, home was a distant concept. They just weren't lucky. As a result, we were there to watch them grow up and reach their various milestones in life, such as their first vaccination, their first walk on leash and their first major surgery when they turned of age - sterilization

Looking terrified at the clinic for their vaccination

Despite his initial bravado, Den Den turned out to be shy. Shelter living could have made it worse but fortunately, he was the first to be adopted. Life in the midst of a warm and loving family provided him the the stability he needed at a critical time. 

Our handsome lad, Den Den

Dessa appeared the most gentle. Long limbed and slender, she resembled a graceful deer. Yet, when the boys disturbed her, she was not one to refrain from scowling at them with her scariest face. Dessa was comfortable with ladies but was insecure and anxious when it came to some men. She would run into her crate and refuse to eat in their presence, until she felt they were no longer hovering around. Funny if you think about it, because most of us who had a hand in capturing her were females! 

She had a natural supermodel pout this one

Finally, there was Dodger... Who really lived up to his name. This boy was painfully shy of humans. He was comfortable around dogs and would even bully some of them in a group setting. But when a human being were to walk towards him, no matter how meek or harmless we may be, he would scramble away hastily like we had the plague. He loved hiding in a nook that our curved stone bench made against the wall. When organising walks for the kennel during weekends, we tended to miss him out because he did so well keeping himself out of our sight! When we brought him for his first vaccination, I recall the distinct pungent stench of his fear pooping. We used up many paper towels cleaning his bottom, the crate and our clothes! Thankfully, Dodger outgrew that. 

With his funny ways, Dodger grew on you

It was only until this bunch grew much older did they start to get a taste of a warm human home. Den Den, Dawson and Demi were adopted in this sequence. By then, having been at the shelter for some time, it took them quite a lot of getting used to in transiting to a home. We often wish these wonderful adopters could have gotten to our dogs earlier because shelter life does unwittingly alter the personality of the dog in the long run. But we are thankful they managed to find their way to our dogs in the end. Better late then never, they always say.

Den Den's family

As I am writing this, Dessa is on another trial homestay. She has been for a few of those but they weren't successful because of her separation anxiety issues. The potential adopters genuinely liked her but were ill-equipped to deal with her separation anxiety. We hope it works out for her this time round. She's getting better with practice! 

They took a longer time to adapt but adapt they did. See the smile!

As for Dodger, he is still dodging. But we hope that surely isn't going to be the story of his life. There are many things we learnt about Dodger over the course of time. Teaching him to walk on leash wasn't as difficult as we expected it to be. It turned out that when Dodger was ready to let go of his anxiety a little, he really enjoyed his walks outside. While he can be a very skittish dog, he was extremely manageable. When he was afraid, he did not become defensive or aggressive. Instead, he simply grew limp and allowed us to handle him. This was a great advantage because it gave us so much more room to work with him without fearing. Never say never, even for one as determined to dodge as Dodger. Because everybody needs someone to believe in him.

It was clear Dodger enjoyed his walks

If we could turn back time would we have staked out their den for hours waiting for them to emerge? Maybe not. But we gain comfort in the knowledge that having done so, these five pups will never have to lead the life that their mother, Shy continues to lead every day. Since then, Shy has had multiple litters. The forests are fraught with dangers and diseases. Every day is harsh and uncertain. Because she is wary and guarded, we are unable to get to her.

Growing up carefree

For lack of a better word, we call our work "rescue". But I have realised over the years that rescue can only be said to have taken place when adoption begins. As a shelter, we don't rescue dogs - we can only love them and do the best for them until they find a home. We pray Dessa and Dodger will one day, like their siblings, find kind, warm and patient people to be their family. 

And then finally, rescue is completed. 

We have many wonderful mongrels awaiting adoption, including HDB approved ones. Please contact us at for further enquiries. Thank you. 

Thursday, June 18, 2015

Escaping the Death Row

Back when Gentle Paws did not yet exist, we helped out at Madam Wong's Shelter. It was 2008. We led a simpler life. The shelter wasn't our own. There were less worries. We were volunteers. We cared for the dogs on a day to day basis. We didn't have to fret about the long run. We cooked for the dogs, fed and showered them and walked as many of them as we could. 

If we found extra time, we would head over to the last row of kennels in the block. It was often quiet. Because these kennels were situated right at the end, few walked by. There was a palpable sense of loneliness and isolation.

We never got to know many of the dogs well. One day they could be in their kennel as usual and the next they would have mysteriously disappeared. We didn't know if they had passed on, gotten relocated or were simply removed because their owners had stopped paying the boarding fees. As a result, we started recognising this row of kennels as the Death Row. What a pity it was because many of these dogs were quite wonderful. 

Deckie was one of the Death Row dogs. The notice on his kennel read that he was originally named Jackie. For months now, his rescuer had ceased to pay the boarding fees. This dog was on the verge of eviction. Where was he to go? He had no kith or kin and was completely at the mercy of the kindness of others. 

Feeling alone.

Weeks went by and Deckie's future continued to hang in the balance. The decision was made to have Deckie brought under our care. If we didn't act on it, we were worried that we would one day find him suddenly gone, like so many of his compatriots.

Under our care, we couldn't provide him with much more. But at least, he had nutritious food, walks, showers, a bigger space to roam and the hustle and bustle of human activity all around. It was a livelier, warmer place to be and perhaps more healthy for the soul. 

Meet skinny Deckie of the past.

The Deckie of the past was nothing like the elderly, mellow Deckie of today. When he just came over, he was active and playful. He also had a zealous passion for humping. Because of space constraints at that time, our dogs were housed in three different groups. We had a difficult time finding a suitable kennel for Deckie because no matter where he went, it seemed he was always bullied by the others.

A studio shoot in which Decks participated.

When we moved over to Gentle Paws, things improved for Deckie. We had a bigger area and more options to house the dogs. But one incident at our new premises altered Deckie's personality for good. 

At Gentle Paws, there is a long narrow corridor lining the kennels that the dogs and their handlers have to navigate when moving in and out for their walks. It was during a situation like that when the dogs were in transit, that Deckie was bitten in the neck by another of our shelter dogs. It wasn't a major injury for the average dog but for Deckie it proved almost fatal because it triggered his autoimmune disease. The disease caused his immune system to attack and destroy healthy cells and organs. In his case, Deckie's wound would not heal and his skin started detaching from his body.

Without the bandage, his skin would not hold together. The neck wound took ages to heal too.

Deckie was hospitalised for a very long time. He lost so much weight he was reduced to skin and bones. During this time, he was also pretty much spoilt by the staff of the clinic. 

It was a long recuperation process.

When it was finally time for him to return to the shelter, something had altered in him. He started to develop a particularly terrible case of food aggression. We couldn't clear his plate without him growling and charging at us. We also had to be careful when we dropped his treats on the floor because he would guard them. Giving him raw hides or chews were out of the question unless we stayed and ensured he finished it. In 2012, when Cesar Millan came to town and the organisers sought applications for problem dogs, we took a video and submitted Deckie as a candidate. Unfortunately, our application wasn't picked. 

Back at the shelter post-injury, a changed dog.

No one is perfect. We shouldn't expect that of Decks too. We learnt to deal with Deckie's food aggression issues over the years. At the beginning, one of us would distract Deckie with a treat while another would unlatch the gate silently and clear the plate from the kennel without him realising. Later on, we began to pick up cues from Deckie. He didn't guard empty plates. If he walked away from a plate and went back to his bed, there is a high possibility that he is no longer interested in the food. I guess the passing of time also mellowed his aggression. As he aged, his food aggression issues eased considerably.

Enjoying the sunshine.

Food aggression aside, there is plenty to love about Deckie. Decks is gentle and he loves affection. He welcomes ear scratches and face rubs. He would lay his head in your lap when you sat beside him. He enjoys car rides and walks in the parks. When he sees Wee's van in the car park, he would plop himself beside the van and refuse to venture any further, demanding for his ride.

He loved his walks in the park when he still could walk for long.

Deckie is also wonderful with puppies. Because of our usual problem of space issues, we had to occasionally resort to housing Decks with our puppies, whenever we get a bumper crop. Sometimes, we split the kennel with play pens to give Deckie his privacy from the pups. Other times, we don't and the pups come rushing up to Deckie like he is their salvation. Even when they mistake him for their mama and try to nurse, poor Deckie just scrambles up and moves away from them. He doesn't ever growl or snap at them. Deckie has given us quite a lot of laughter and joy.

Laying flat on the ground like a rug, paws apart. This is Deckie's trademark pose.

If you are looking for somewhere or something to renew your faith in humanity, then perhaps a dog shelter is the place. At Gentle Paws, you will be heartened to know that people look beyond your flaws. Despite his food aggression, Deckie has a healthy number of fans amongst our volunteers. But the cutest has got to be the coupling of Deckie with our volunteer, Tong Ni. 

And our vote for cutest pairing goes to...

Based on appearance alone, Tong Ni looks gentle and sweet natured. But we discovered that beneath that exterior is really a resilient young lady who doesn't mind going the extra mile for those she cares about. She has researched on food aggression and wrote long emails to us with her suggestions. She has spent long hours with Deckie, roping her dad in to bring him to the park or to go swimming to ease his arthritis. She goes along on Deckie's vet visits when she can to help the vet in case Decks acts up. She probably would have adopted Deckie if her mum wasn't scared of dogs. The picture of Tong Ni and the tubby, stately, orange old man trotting beside her is at once amusing, poignant and stirring.

Friendships are made of these.

Deckie was probably middle aged when we got him. More than five years has passed since then which makes him one of our most senior dogs at the shelter. He should be anywhere between eight to ten years old - or more. He is now on long term medication for his arthritis. He can no longer go for long walks because of the pain. As a shelter, we too are continually learning how to make the ageing process a less painful and a more graceful one for our dogs. 

Former death row inmate.

If you ask us, Deckie's story teaches us what it means to rescue a dog. It really isn't about removing him from the streets and putting him on long term boarding under someone else's care. Rescuing a dog is more than ensuring his physical wellbeing. It is also about making sure the dog goes on to lead a life worth living - not just physically but also mentally. Don't act on impulse if you haven't thought it through. Always remember, the greatest thing you can ever do for the countless of homeless dogs out there is to adopt and not buy.

What a journey!

Today Deckie is no longer just a dog on the Death Row. Instead, he has become a wonderful old friend with whom we have numerous shared memories. Might not be the most perfect life but at least he knows that 

Somebody loves him. 

We have many beautiful mongrels up for adoption. Please email us at for further enquiries. Thank you.