The recent nationwide ban on dog meat in South Korea introduces significant challenges for farmers, with many struggling to find homes for their remaining dogs and fearing euthanasia. Amid calls for rehoming, a lack of clear governmental guidance raises urgent questions about the future of both the dogs and the farmers.
South Korea Faces Dog Meat Ban Fallout: Uncertainty for Farmers and Dogs Alike

South Korea Faces Dog Meat Ban Fallout: Uncertainty for Farmers and Dogs Alike
As South Korea's landmark dog meat ban looms, farmers grapple with the prospect of their livelihoods disappearing and the fate of nearly half a million dogs in limbo.
When Reverend Joo Yeong-bong isn’t delivering sermons, he manages a dog farm that may soon face closure. "Since last summer, we’ve been unable to find buyers for our dogs," he expressed, highlighting the growing fear surrounding the impending legal crackdown. South Korea’s recent legislation banning dog meat for consumption mandates that farmers such as Mr. Joo have until February 2027 to cease operations and relocate their remaining dogs. However, many are concerned that this timeline is insufficient to end an industry that has sustained families for generations, especially given the absence of comprehensive support from local governments or effective rehoming strategies for an estimated 500,000 dogs still held in captivity.
As the deadline approaches, farmers like 33-year-old Chan-woo face the daunting task of finding homes for over 600 dogs. The new law does not clarify how leftover animals should be managed, placing farmers in precarious financial situations. “We are drowning in debt and unsure of where to turn next,” Chan-woo lamented, emphasizing the dwindling hope amidst the chaos. Observers note that the law was enacted without a solid plan for the animals and that the expectations placed on activists and government policymakers are unrealistic.
The Ministry of Agriculture, Food and Rural Affairs (Mafra) stated that local authorities would take ownership of surrendered dogs, yet there are reports of challenging rehoming experiences. Many larger breeds favored in the meat trade struggle to find placements due to social stigma and the fears surrounding disease. With rescue shelters already overloaded, the grim reality is setting in: many dogs saved from slaughter are at risk of euthanasia, a disheartening prospect for animal rights advocates.
“I assumed that the organizations that championed this ban had addressed the future of these dogs,” Chan-woo said. “The lack of follow-through has led to disturbing outcomes.” Despite promises of support from the government, including financial assistance for early business closures, advocates like Lee Sangkyung of Humane World for Animals Korea stress that there still exists substantial confusion regarding the remaining dogs.
Efforts have been made to relocate some dogs abroad, with rescue organizations sending hundreds of animals to the United States and Canada. Former dog farmer Yang Jong-tae emotionally recalled witnessing rescuers treating dogs with dignity, contrasting it with the harsh realities of their previous lives. Yet, he expressed disapproval of the ban, questioning the moral reasoning when other animals are still consumed.
As dog meat consumption steadily declines in South Korea—down to 8% of the population having tried it within the last year—many involved in the industry voice fear for their financial futures. A government survey shows that even as farms close, younger farmers remain particularly vulnerable, frequently discussing their bleak prospects.
"The future looks grim; many have lost everything,” Mr. Joo reflected. As the ban’s deadline draws near, the lingering uncertainty for farmers and the fate of the dogs highlights a deep rift in South Korea’s value systems surrounding animal rights and traditional practices. The strain on both communities involved in the dog meat trade and animal welfare raises critical questions about the next steps for a society caught between progress and tradition.