The deceased was found lying wrapped in a cotton blanket, surrounded by white roses, hydrangeas, angel figurines, lighted candles and incense. A screen mounted on the wall displayed his picture. His friend, Kim Sung-ae, 71, cried and shook as she stroked his head and face and said goodbye. Next door, young funeral directors in uniform were preparing for the cremation.
This elaborate and moving ritual was for a white poodle named Dalcon, who was kept in a willow cage with his eyes open.
“He was like a virus that infected me with happiness,” said Kim, who lived with Dalcon for 13 years until he died of heart disease. “We were family.”
Until recently, South Korea’s tradition of breeding dogs for meat often made global headlines and drew the ire of animal rights groups. But in recent years, people here have been drawn to pets, especially dogs. As more Koreans choose to be single, childless, or both, they are looking for companionship. More than two-fifths of all households in the country now consist of just one person.
The pandemic has also had a big impact on people staying indoors and bringing dogs and cats into their homes, adopted from shelters or the street.
According to government estimates, one in four households in South Korea now owns a pet, an increase from 17.4% in 2010. Most of them are dogs. (Compared to the United States, where about 62% of households have a pet, South Korea’s numbers are still low, according to a Pew Research Center survey last year.)
Kim Soo-hyun, 41, Kim’s daughter, said, “In this time of distrust and loneliness, dogs teach us what unconditional love is.” Kim’s daughter Kim Soo-hyun (41) is raising two dogs, but has no plans to have children. “A human child might talk back or rebel, but a dog follows you as if you were the center of the universe.”
Kim Kyung-sook, 63, who cremated her 18-year-old dachshund Kangi on the same day as Dalcon, agreed. “When I left the house, he walked me out the door until the door closed behind me,” she said. “When I returned home, he was always there, as engrossed as if I had come home from a war overseas.”
The boom in pet services has changed the country’s urban landscape. With South Korea’s birth rate among the lowest in the world, maternity clinics have all but disappeared, while pet hospitals and stores are ubiquitous. Dogs are often found in strollers at parks and in the neighborhood. In online shopping malls, prams for dogs are selling more than prams for babies.
Politically, the dog offered a rare case of bipartisanship in an increasingly polarized country. In January, lawmakers passed a law banning the centuries-old practice of breeding and butchering dogs for meat in this country.
Nowadays, dogs are family members who spend a lot of money.
Shim Na-jeong said he wears an old padded jacket that costs $38, but bought a $150 jacket for Liam, a homeless boy he adopted from a shelter four years ago.
“Liam is like a child to me,” said Sim, 34, who has no plans to get married or have children. “I love him as much as my mother loved me. I eat the old food in the fridge and save the freshest chicken breasts for Liam.”
Her mother, Park Yong-sung, 66, said she was saddened by the fact that so many young women choose not to have children. However, she said she has come to accept Liam as “my grandson”.
On a recent weekend, the mother and daughter joined six other families and took their dog on a picnic at Mireuksa Temple, a Buddhist temple in central South Korea. The so-called temple stay is a way for ordinary people to meditate and enjoy the tranquility of the monastery. Some temples now encourage families to bring their dogs. All participants, both humans and dogs, wear gray Buddhist robes and prayer beads.
Kang Hyun-ji (31), who got married last October and was at the venue with her spouse and two pure white Pomeranians, said, “I feel more attached to my dog than my husband.” Her husband, Kim Sang-baek (32), smiled shyly and shrugged his shoulders.
Seok Jeong-gak, a monk at this temple, strokes his pet dog, Faom, and says that humans and dogs are just souls that wear different “shells” in this life cycle, and that there is a possibility of changing shells in the next reincarnation. He said that there is. While the sermon continued under the large canvas shade on the temple lawn, Liam was busy licking his feet.
Visitors had booked Temple Stay through Vanlife, a smartphone app that helps find pet-friendly restaurants, resorts and temples.
“When I started my business in 2019, people were skeptical that many people would take their pets with them on vacation,” says Hae-mi Lee, who runs Vanlife. “Now there are people who don’t just walk their dogs, they do everything with them.”
Ko Ji-an runs Dockingabout, a “comprehensive dog care center” in Seoul staffed by daycare specialists, trainers, doctors, and groomers.
“People used to treat their pet dogs as their property, something to display and something they could throw away if they misbehaved,” Ms Koh said. “Now they treat them like family. Even if they become aggressive, they don’t think about replacing them, they tell them what the problem is and what they can do to fix it. I think about it.”
There is something behind the growing industry surrounding pets. Last year, animal rights activists led authorities in raiding a puppy factory and rescuing 1,400 dogs kept in harsh conditions. Authorities found dozens of dead dogs in the freezer.
While the episode was shocking, the government’s role in rescuing the dogs and finding shelters reflects the country’s changing attitude towards animal rights. In Congress, lawmakers are proposing new legislation that would ban puppy auctions and tighten other regulations on dog breeders.
Elaborate pet funerals like Dal Kong didn’t start until around 2017, when pet funeral service company Pet Forest envisioned it as a way to help people deal with pet loss syndrome.
“Since then, pet funerals have become very similar to human funerals,” says Lee Sang-hoon, president of Pet Forest.
Currently, there are 74 licensed pet funeral centers across South Korea. Families choose a casket or body for their pet.
After cremation, the ashes are received in a small urn or made into jewel-like stones to be taken home. Alternatively, you can keep your pet’s memory alive with photos, handwritten notes, pet toys, treats, and flowers by leaving it at a memorial. According to notes they left behind, one family had visited their dog’s remains seven times since their white Maltese “crossed the rainbow bridge”, or passed away, in 2022.
Pet mortician Kim Won-seop said, “No matter how old a dog is when it dies, it is still a child to its human family.”
