Scrolling through Facebook on a day like any other in 2015, Marc Ching came across a post he immediately assumed was fake.
After reading about a dog meat festival in Yulin, a large city in China, he did some research and found out that what he had read might actually be true. Only four years prior, Ching had founded Animal Hope and Wellness, a nonprofit dog rescue in Sherman Oaks.
Months later, Ching flew to China to see the slaughterhouses he had read about with his own skeptical eyes.
He went to Beijing first, where he said he couldn’t find any slaughterhouses because they had closed them down to avoid American tourists, as he later heard. Assuming he must have been fooled by Facebook clickbait, he called his wife and told her he would visit the Great Wall of China and then head home.
Later that night, he went to a bar next to his hotel and met a man who knew of many slaughterhouses and agreed to take him to them the next day. He said he later realized that what he had read about wasn’t just happening but was much worse than people thought.
“We went to a city in north China that has huge slaughterhouses the size of football stadiums,” Ching said. “They are making millions of dollars supplying entire regions of China dog meat.”
Ching and his team have since taken many trips back to China and have rescued thousands of dogs.
The dog meat trade remains a secretive part of many societies. While the precise number of dogs killed every year around the world for food is unknown, the number is estimated at over 20 million.
The killing of dogs for food is legal in many countries across Asia specifically, although often stigmatized in those same countries, as the majority of citizens do not eat dog.
South Korea is the only country that has dog meat farms, so the dogs taken for food in other Asian countries are either stolen domesticated pets or strays. The country is said to have several thousand dog farms, ranging from small backyard operations to large industrial-scale ones. Ching estimates that 80% of the dogs killed and sold at the Yulin festival are pets.
Many people eat dog meat for the same reasons they eat any other meat; they like the taste. Dog meat is prepared differently around the world, but notably in Vietnam it is grilled or steamed in shrimp sauce with lemongrass and spices.
Some enjoy dog for its often cheap price. Others believe in certain benefits of eating dog meat specifically; theories that have been passed down from generations.
Ching said he has spoken with many Chinese people who believe that eating dog allows them to atone for past mistakes. The meat is also thought to have medicinal properties in many societies. It is often eaten when the weather is cold, as some believe it raises their blood temperature.
Suki Su, the director of a dog shelter in China that partners with Animal Hope and Wellness, said that the domestication of dogs is not very common in many countries that participate in the trade, so they have never viewed the animals as family members. For others, Su claims they just don't know where their meat is coming from.
“They are shocked when we tell them that the butcher kills domesticated dogs too,” Su said.
While many foreign activists push to make changes within these countries, there has been plenty of pushback, according to Su.
The fear of cultural imperialism can cause resentment among locals, causing them to push back against animal protection laws even when the great majority of the population does not approve of killing dogs for food.
Along with that comes expected hesitancy from local politicians in favor of helping their dog meat farmers continue to earn a living.
In response, activists have tried to fight their battle from different angles, instead appealing to the wants, needs and safety of the people involved.
In some cases, but certainly not all, shutting down dog meat operations is not as difficult as it may seem. Shame is prominent in many Asian cultures, and building a life around the slaughter of dogs often comes with it, according to Kelly O’Meara, a vice president of the Humane Society International.
O’Meara has led several rescues in South Korea, and said that not only were many of the farmers willing to give up their dogs but some referred her to other farmers who similarly wanted to get out of the business.
The process of closure and rescue is controversial, as it can unintentionally cause the opposite of what is intended. Many activists pay thousands of dollars per dog, adding to the profitability of the industry as others fill the market-demand.
O’Meara, by contrast, requires all farmers to sign 20-year contracts promising they will not be involved in any animal-related breeding or agriculture of any kind for the remainder of their business lives. The Humane Society does provide transition assistance, giving them the opportunity to start a new livelihood.
The organization has effectively created what it hopes is a model to end the dog-meat trade in South Korea while benefiting both the dogs and people in the industry. This model has recently been mimicked by the Korean authorities, as they shut down the largest dog-meat market and the largest slaughterhouse in the country late last year. This July, the nation’s second largest dog-meat market was shut down, according to O'Meara.
In all three circumstances, the government provided financial assistance to allow people in the dog meat industry to transition.
In Korea, there are widespread misconceptions about the dogs that are being killed for food, according to O’Meara.
Certain dog breeds are more commonly used for food, most popularly the Nureongi dog in Korea. Even in countries where the domestication of dogs is popular, including Korea, those pets are often disassociated with the dogs killed for food.
