Your Pet's Rescue Story
My furry soulmate was waiting for me on the other side of this wide, wonderful world.

Just shy of my 25th birthday I accepted a job as an ESL teacher in South Korea. I planned to get a puppy once I got there. Dog's high energy matches mine which, not surprisingly, was exactly why my parents never allowed me to own one as a kid.

Only a few weeks after I arrived, unpacked, and settled into my new studio apartment in Daegu I made it my mission to find a dog. My coworker, Yvonne, got a cat over there, so I asked her to take me to the holy grail of pets.
One Saturday, we made our way near the city center towards Seomun Market (서문시장). My first time in an Asian market did not disappoint; it was a bizarre obstacle course. Navigating through the swarm of people bumping into us, force fed silkworm larvae (Beondegi 번데기), dodging a large squid an old lady tried to throw at me as a joke, and the smells!
I'm used to trying odd dishes while traveling, but nothing could have prepared me for those stalls. When we turned another corner I saw freezers filled with dog carcasses, pig heads/entrails on cutting blocks, and women breaking chicken’s necks. We stopped in front of a stack of cages crammed with whining kittens, puppies, and baby rabbits.

A man was talking with this old woman selling the poor animals, pointing to a squished black pup. Horrified, I watched her put it in a black, plastic bag like one would do with a piece of fruit and pocket his twenty-thousand won bill (~$18). Yvonne clearly saw the shock on my face and explained that some Koreans make dog meat dishes (one known as Boshintang 보신탕).
I locked eyes with this adorable, mostly black, curly tailed puppy with brown paws, and a white streak running all the way from chest to tail. The ears first caught my attention; they were larger than her head!
I bought a small towel from another vendor and walked back over. There were too many baby animals shoved in the cage, so it took the vendor a minute to get to my puppy. I walked away, puppy wrapped in the towel, while the vendors were chuckling as I passed by. Yvonne explained that the vendors definitely found it odd that I carried food like it was a pet.

After a few days of calling her Sunset (일몰) I realized she was going to be a handful. She is stubborn as hell and goes through mood swings. Instead, I lovingly dubbed her Moonje (문제—‘trouble/problem’). Sometimes day-to-day life was difficult in Korea, but Moonje helped me adjust. She taught me unconditional love, patience, and that dogs can be better friends than humans.
Of course, I brought her with me when I moved back to Orlando four years ago. She just turned eight years old in June and continues to have a clean bill of health! We struggle together with her anxiety, trust issues sometimes. I don’t know what her awful journey was like before we met, but she is happy, safe, and loved now.


*Note: South Korea is a beautiful and culturally rich nation. I spent three more years there and learned more about Asian culture than I ever realized I needed to know. Reactions to my verbal explanation of how I acquired Moonje are usually shock and disgust—similar to my initial reaction. Through traveling I continue to learn about many customs, traditions, and food very different from America. In Korea, consumption of dog meat has been considered a healthy way to balance energy in the body for many centuries. While Koreans eat less dog meat nowadays, many want to preserve this tradition. The main controversy lies not with the type of meat that is eaten, but the way it is prepared. For more information or if you want to help:

http://koreandogs.org