From hunters to cherished companions, the role of the canine in Korean culture has transformed radically

By Michelle Woo
Photograph by Grace Chon
Once upon a time, Koreans believed a dog was just a dog.
The four-legged creature lived in the confines of the backyard; his filthy paws were never to step foot onto Mom’s just-waxed marble floor. His meals consisted of leftover scraps from dinner. His job was simple: to protect the home.
He was a dog. He lived a dog’s life.
And then we cracked.
Amy Chung, an attorney in Washington, D.C., recently cut out pictures of her dogs’ faces and attached them to popsicle sticks so that they—or at least their photographs—could be part of her out-of-state wedding. Helena Sung, a writer in New York City, serves only organic boneless chicken, veggies and brown rice to her pooch, Jasper. Eileen Song, an accountant in San Francisco, has purchased more than 50 different outfits for her posh pup, along with hats, jeweled collars and a pink backpack personalized with her name, Snowball Song. Liz Paik and her husband take separate vacations so someone can always be home with their tailed pal, Abigail.
“My life revolves around the dogs,” says Chung, mama to Kota, a cream-furred Shiba, and now Juneau, her fiancé’s 60-pound husky. “All my conversations are about them. I’ll be like, ‘Kota hasn’t being going No. 2’ and the person I’m talking to will be like, ‘Gross. Why are you telling me this?’” Continue Reading »