Dr Sing Kong Yuen, Toa Payoh Vets, toapayohvets.com
Chapter 1. Did the Animal Activist Fail in Her Mission?
Chapter 2. A Volunteer with Passion Is worth 40 Merely Interested.
Chapter 3. The Looters Attacked the Pack Leader.
Chapter 4. If Only We Can Turn Back the Clock for the Pack Leader...
Chapter 5. NANAS. Swamp Dogs Saved From Lethal Injections.
CHAPTER 2
Friday July 6, 2007. Yishun Swamp Land.
"The military had kindly given more time," Lynda said when I asked why the pack of swamp dogs had not been relocated to NANAS (Noah's Ark Natural Animal Sanctuary) by June 24, 2007. This was the deadline to vacate the premises including the fishing pond. "However, a batch of dogs is in NANAS," Lynda confirmed.
Today was surprisingly the same blue-sky bright sunshine and white-cottony clouded morning almost identical to the weather on June 24, when I came to vaccinate and microchip the swamp dogs.
At 11 a.m, Lynda drove the volunteers (Esther, myself, 2 second-year Melbourne University vet students and Mr Nick Lee, the dog photographer) from the Khatib subway to the Yishun Swamp Land to gather 16 dogs and 4 puppies to be transported to Pasir Ris boarding kennel, a 20-minute drive away.
Rick would transport the dogs to the Pasir Ris boarding kennels today. Another day, the NANAS driver would bring the dogs to NANAS.
Today's Khatib Bongsu River was dry. It was low tide and I could see the protruding roots of the mangrove trees in the sticky chocolate mud to our left.
A small group of around 6 men and women suddenly appeared 10 metres to our right as we turned the corner of the pot-holed track. "Look out," I pointed to the group.
"Are they bandits?" I asked Lynda.
One man appeared to be chopping an object on the granite slab and the others were eyeing us.
We were in danger? None of us had martial arts training to defend ourselves and definitely no weapons with us? Lynda should make a fast U-turn and speed back in such situations. But she slowed down instead as her SUV dipped into a pot hole.
A man waved his parang (machete) at us. He was a stout person. He looked intimidating. The jungle track curved her SUV closer to the group unavoidably.
"They are eating the durians, probably from the fallen durian trees," I sighed. The two young lady volunteer vet students' heart beats slowed back to normal.
We reached the fishing pond. The vacated house of Tenant 1 (the extended family with the patriarch) and the surrounding structures were run down. Some foreign workers had entered to remove metallic stuff for sale to scrape yards. Metal prices had shot up in the commodity market. There were reports of manholes and copper wires being stolen in Singapore.
Catching the dogs would be easy, I thought. Not like the previous expedition when we needed to entice them with food so that I could vaccinate them. There were the troublesome nursing dam Lynda finally caught and a wary suspcious male dog baring his teeth. Lynda decided to leave him to his fate in Singapore.
Today we seem to have more guns, I mean the manpower. Rick's big Mercedes van to transport the dogs. Esther, Lynda and the family members of the patriarch were in full force. The ladies would catch the dogs without any need for food bribery and put them in Rick's plastic dog carrier cages.
2 puppies inside one crate were fighting. One puppy yelled loudly as he was bitten painfully. This play-biting is normal developmental behaviour in the dog as the biter gets feedback of painful screams.
"These 2 puppies cannot be crated together," the matriarch's daughter advised.
A kind 2nd-year vet student separated the 2 puppies and put each in a different cage.
As many as 3 adult dogs were put inside the large big plastic dog carrier crate. However, there were many canine escapes.
As Lynda opened one door to put in the 3rd dog, the 2 inside dashed out at top speed. So, all ladies had to catch them again.
It seemed to be a back-breaking job for the ladies as Lynda and Esther lifted up the swamp dogs by the armpit, put them backside first into the upright plastic dog carrier crates. Soon, the crates were full. What to do now?
"Tie one dog inside the van," Lynda took out a brand new blue dog collar and leash from her fluorescent green plastic bag. This time she remembered to bring leashes unlike the previous expedition when she had to get one from the Tenant.
Esther held up the adult dog by the armpits as high above the ground as she could. With all her strength. Lynda looped the dog collar onto and round his neck as if she was lassoing wild horses at a rodeo. Expertly.
From my camera view finder, I knew she was doing it the wrong way. I shouted not too loudly: "The collar is too loose. The dog's neck is too small. He will run away when you put him down on the ground!"
I spoke from bitter experience as I had dogs escaping from the Surgery because my assistants put on loose collars when exercising the patients. Sometimes, they were confident as the collar had been fitting and was used by the dog owner for some time.
The dog then shakes his head and escapes out of my Surgery. It is extremely difficult to catch him and it makes the owner unhappy. A choke chain for restraining dogs would be the preferred collar rather than the nylon one Lynda was using.
Now Lynda had handled more dogs than anyone of us, I presume. She collared this dog. Esther put the dog down to let him walk to the van on a leash. The dog shook his head, the collar rolled out.
He bounced up, not giving one look of respect to the two-legged homo sapiens. He hunched his shoulders, head lowered and sprinted back to the house. A flurry of female legs were no match in speed to this four-legged canine. Now, the ladies were playing "police and thief" while the dog initiated the game of "hide and seek".
He sank low and dog-crawled under a wooden platform near the entrance of the house. Into a 6-inch gap and safety. I don't know whether to laugh out loud as I might offend the volunteers and they might go on strike. Then I would have to do the job. I wished I was a animal documentary movie expert as this episode would sell well and maybe contribute to the funds for NANAS.
Discretion is the better part of valour. I kept mum.
"Come out..." a second year vet student bent down and beckoned to him. With hands on her hips and then off, Lynda did not say anything.
All the dogs sensed something was wrong today. They rolled up their eyes and the short hairs on their spine were erect. Tails were down. But they were with the family they knew and loved. So they did not panic.
The matriarch persuaded the dog to come out, I think. There was so much commotion, confusion and noise that I don't know how the dog was captured.
It would be a dull boring dog-catching morning, I had thought.
But I had a rare chance to get out of my concrete jungle and visit Singapore's hidden Eden for the last time before the military acquisition. To smell the roses. To refresh my brain and get out from the daily routine.
This piece of paradise would be barred to everyone once the military staked its claim. Maybe I could spot a monitor lizard today?
I never expected dog catching day to be so eventful and fun.
As the dogs from Tenant 1 were crated, Lynda went with the volunteers further up the track to get the 2 dogs from Tenant 2, the 68-year-old man. I stayed behind to talk to Tenant 1's patriarch. How come he was still living here using generator to get electricity and bathing in rain water? Getting bitten by mosquitoes and risking denque viral fever which is now endemic in Singapore.
When most Singaporeans have been housed in apartments with water and electricity easily available at the touch of a switch, this patriarch and his younger wife lived in a rural area.
According to the patriarch's son-in-law who is in his fifties, it was around 50 years ago, that the patriarch reclaimed the swamp land. Bit by bit he dumped soil. He filled up the swamp to start a shrimp farming. As the years go by,the weather becomes hotter, perhaps due to global warming. The quality of water from the Khatib Bongsu River became poorer due to industries being set up nearby. Shhrimps started dying and the whole batch would perish.
He had converted to the fish farming and then he started a fishing pond. The government offered him short land leases. Tenant 2, the 68-year-old man had worked with him all these years and had stayed alone further up the track.
I was surprised that there were still old farmers around in Singapore. Soon Lynda trooped back with the volunteers and the photographer without dogs.
"The 68-year-old man needed to spend one more night with his 2 dogs," Lynda was sympathetic. "The dogs would be transported tomorrow."
For today, the 14 dogs and 4 pups were rounded up. As I did not bring my vaccine this time, I had to find time in the evening to drive to Pasir Ris to vaccinate a male dog and 4 puppies that Lynda could not find families to adopt.
"That's the suspicious and nervous male dog you did not vaccinate," Lynda told me. It was good that Lynda did not abandon him.
14 dogs and 4 puppies and 2 more dogs tomorrow would live their natural lives, hopefully to old age, in NANAS. Initially only 21 adult swamp dogs were selected. It was good luck to the others.
"Why don't you just transport the dogs directly from Yishun swamp land to NANAS?" I asked Lynda earlier as I thought it was a matter of vaccination, microchipping and putting them straight into a big truck to NANAS. "Like an army truck transporting soldiers?"
"I need to do lots of paperwork and make other arrangements. Some dogs would run away if the NANAS transport man come directly to the fishing pond." Lynda explained. 24 hours a day were never enough for Lynda as she had her own work to do and other commitments too.
"It is better to put them in the boarding kennels first. In this way, NANAS' transport man can take them at his convenience."
It appeared that all available adult swamp dogs and puppies were accounted for. Except for one. The leader of the pack called Bobby was a casualty. He had been warded in a veterinary surgery, apparently from a chopped tail around one week ago.
Animal volunteers play a big part in making life safer and better for animals that need help. They are usually youths. They are a significant help in animal welfare. Their interests usually do not sustain over time. There is a need to have a pack leader to guide them. This person must have passion to help animals.
Singapore does not have a no-kill animal shelters. So these cross-bred swamp dogs would pay the ulitmate price - death by lethal injections. By a veterinarian.
It was fortunate for the swamp dogs met a person with passion. He or she is better than 40 people merely interested.
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