South Korea Closes 78% of Dog Meat Farms as 2027 Ban Nears

1,204 farms close, with 333 still operating

South Korea had closed 1,204 of its 1,537 registered dog meat farms by December 21, 2025, according to the Ministry of Agriculture, Food and Rural Affairs. That leaves 333 farms operating as the country prepares to enforce its prohibition on the dog meat industry in February 2027.

The closures represent approximately 78% of registered farms, nearly eight out of every 10. More than half of the farms originally scheduled to shut in 2026 or 2027 have already stopped operating, bringing the transition forward from the timetable their owners initially set.

The special law took effect in August 2024, following its passage by the National Assembly on January 9 that year. Its central prohibitions become enforceable after a grace period of three years. Although commonly described as a ban on dog meat consumption, the legislation targets the activities that supply meat for people to eat. Eating dog meat itself remains legal.

The agriculture ministry credits the rapid closures to public support for the prohibition, payments that reward farmers for closing early, and encouragement from local governments. Officials believe the pace puts South Korea on course to complete the phaseout of dog meat farming by the February 2027 deadline, potentially before full enforcement begins.

An agriculture ministry spokesperson urged the remaining farmers to participate, presenting the transition as part of a wider change in the country's treatment of animals.

We call on the remaining farms to actively cooperate with the government's efforts and contribute to Korea's transformation into an animal welfare-conscious nation.

The shrinking farm count is only one part of the transition. Farmers and other businesses face lost income, disputed compensation and debts, while hundreds of thousands of dogs need care or new homes. The government must manage both the closure of an industry and the animals it leaves behind.

What changes under the law?

The National Assembly's legislation makes slaughtering dogs and selling dog meat for human consumption illegal once the grace period ends. Breeding and raising dogs for that trade, along with distribution, are also covered by the prohibition. The distinction matters: criminal penalties fall on the commercial supply of dog meat, while consumption itself remains legal.

The penalties described for raising and butchering dogs reach a maximum of three years in prison or a fine of 30 million won, approximately $22,768. Distributing dog meat can carry up to two years in prison or a fine of 20 million won. Farmer Chan-woo describes facing a possible prison sentence of up to two years if he cannot clear his operation before the deadline.

The transition has unfolded across several dates:

• January 9, 2024: The National Assembly passed the legislation prohibiting the dog meat industry.
• August 2024: The special law took effect, with the transition proceeding during the grace period.
• December 21, 2025: Government figures recorded 1,204 farm closures out of 1,537 registered facilities.
• February 2027: The industry's prohibition is scheduled for full enforcement.

The agriculture ministry is working with local governments to help farmers move into other forms of livestock production. Assistance includes financing for changes to facilities and advice on adapting businesses. Regulators have also increased inspections to prevent closed operations from restarting dog farming.

Vice Agriculture Minister Park Beomsu has said officials will try to persuade farmers to voluntarily stop breeding dogs ahead of the ban. The government's approach combines a fixed legal deadline with financial support intended to make earlier departures possible.

Farmers face animals they cannot sell

Joo Yeong-bong, a minister who also raises dogs for slaughter, describes a business that is losing its buyers before its legal deadline arrives. The farmer, aged 60, is president of the Korean Association of Edible Dogs.

Joo said traders had stopped coming even as he tried to sell his animals.

Since last summer we've been trying to sell our dogs, but the traders just keep hesitating," he said. "Not a single one has shown up.

Farmers who invested their savings in the trade now face a practical problem: they need to leave, but cannot find buyers for the dogs still on their farms. For some families, the business has provided income across generations.

Chan-woo, a meat farmer aged 33 who requested anonymity because he feared a backlash, has 600 dogs. In his account of the transition, he had 18 months to dispose of them or face a penalty of up to two years in prison.

Chan-woo described the gap between the deadline and his ability to reduce the number of animals.

Realistically, even just on my farm, I can't process the number of dogs I have in that time," he explained. "At this point I've invested all of my assets [into the farm] - and yet they are not even taking the dogs.

Joo said debt and difficulty finding other employment were adding to the pressure on farmers.

People are suffering," says Joo. "We're drowning in debt, can't pay it off, and some can't even... find new work. It's a hopeless situation.

Concern within the industry is particularly acute for younger farmers who have committed their money to businesses that must close. Their predicament was described this way:

young people in this industry are really facing a bleak reality. Since they can't sell the dogs, they can't shut down quickly either. They're stuck, with no way forward or back.

Lost livelihoods extend beyond farms

Shin Seung-cheol ran a dog meat distribution company for 40 years. At its peak, the business recorded annual sales of 5 billion won, approximately $3.8 million, and employed six people. He now sells vegetables at local markets to make ends meet.

Shin's account connects the stress of losing his business with a cancer diagnosis. His family continues to struggle with what remains of the operation, illustrating how the industry's contraction reaches distributors and households as well as farmers.

The National Dog Meat Association has announced plans to bring administrative lawsuits against more than 50 local governments. Such lawsuits challenge decisions made by public authorities. Approximately 400 participants are involved, representing about 10% of the country's 4,140 relevant businesses.

Park Myung-jin, head of the association, framed the dispute as a fight over the survival of small businesses.

this is about the livelihoods of hundreds of thousands of small-business owners.

The association's planned legal action reflects dissatisfaction with how support is divided between farms and other parts of the trade. Restaurant owners and distributors say the assistance available to them falls short of what they need to close or change businesses.

Why compensation remains disputed

The agriculture ministry's compensation plan offers farmers between 225,000 won and 600,000 won per dog, approximately $170 to $450, for closing early. The Korean Dog Meat Farmers Association rejected that range as inadequate after initially demanding 2 million won, approximately $1,505, per animal.

The highest government payment is 30% of that demand: 600,000 won compared with 2 million won. At the bottom of the payment range, 225,000 won amounts to just over 11% of the requested sum. The difference helps explain why a scheme intended to speed closures has also become a focus of opposition.

Industry members also point to the budgets available to different businesses. In 2025, the agriculture ministry allocated more than 70 billion won for dog farm closures and changes to facilities. The food safety ministry budgeted 3.9 billion won for support to related small businesses.

Restaurant owners and distributors mainly receive assistance other than direct cash payments, including advice on closing a business and partial support for changing signs. They consider those measures insufficient to replace lost livelihoods.

The government says it is acting within existing laws and approved master plans. Officials say additional compensation would require decisions across ministries and may not be possible under current regulations. Many business owners, meanwhile, feel abandoned by a society that previously accepted their work.

The planned transition also includes compensation for butchers. Local authorities are to oversee dismantling farms and slaughterhouses, while former farmers and butchers who move into other agricultural businesses can receive loans at low interest rates. Traders and restaurant owners are to receive financial assistance to close and find new work.

Hundreds of thousands of dogs need a destination

Estimates put the number of dogs being raised for food in South Korea at 466,000 to 520,000. That range describes an enormous care challenge, involving animals that need food, housing, veterinary attention and, wherever possible, adoptive homes.

Lee Sangkyung, a campaign manager at Humane World for Animals Korea, known as Hwak, said passage of the law had left an urgent rescue question unresolved.

Although the dog meat ban has passed, both the government and civic groups are still grappling with how to rescue the remaining dogs," he explained. "One area that still feels lacking is the discussion around the dogs that have been left behind.

The government says local authorities will assume ownership of dogs surrendered by farm owners and manage them in shelters. A complete destination plan for the remaining animals has yet to be settled.

Large dogs were favored by the meat industry because greater weight meant greater profit. That preference now complicates adoption in South Korea's urban communities, where many residents live in apartments and prospective owners commonly seek smaller pets.

Dogs from meat farms also face stigma tied to concerns about disease and trauma. Many are pure or mixed Tosa-inu, a breed classified as dangerous in South Korea, for which government approval is required to keep a dog as a pet. Rescue shelters are already overcrowded.

Animal welfare advocates describe the combination of size, stigma, breed restrictions and limited shelter space as a "perfect storm of obstacles." Closing a farm therefore leaves a second task: arranging suitable care for animals whose prospects of adoption may be difficult.

Shelter plans confront the question of euthanasia

Cho Hee-kyung, head of the Korean Animal Welfare Association, acknowledged in September 2024 that animal rights groups would try to rescue as many dogs as possible, but there would "be dogs left over."

Cho described what could happen if remaining animals entered the system for lost or abandoned dogs.

If remaining dogs become 'lost and abandoned animals' then it's heartbreaking but they will be euthanised.

Chun Myung-Sun, an associate professor of Veterinary Humanities and Social Science at Seoul National University, called for a direct discussion of the choices involved. Euthanasia means ending an animal's life, rather than continuing to house or rehome it.

There needs to be a concrete discussion about how to 'dispose' of the dogs," she said. "Both adoption and euthanasia should be on the table. But if we've gone to the effort of rescuing dogs from cruel slaughter only to euthanise them, it's understandable that people would feel heartbroken and angry.

The government says euthanising the animals is "certainly" not part of its plan. Officials intend to arrange adoptions or move remaining dogs into care facilities after enforcement begins, and they are examining options for finding homes.

Approximately 6 billion won, or $4.3 million, is being invested annually to expand animal shelters and support private facilities. The practical challenge is to turn that funding and those commitments into sufficient places for animals still on farms.

Overseas adoption offers a limited route

Animal welfare organizations have sent dogs to adopters in Canada, the United Kingdom and the United States. In 2023, Hwak rescued about 200 dogs from a farm in Asan city, with all of them subsequently sent to Canada and the United States.

Yang Jong-tae, the farm's former owner, aged 74, said seeing the rescue team handle the dogs changed how he understood the animals.

When I saw how they handled the animals - like they were handling people, so gently and lovingly - it really moved me," he recalled. "We don't treat them like that. For us, raising dogs was just a way to make a living. But those people from the animal group treated the dogs like they were individuals with dignity, and that really touched my heart.

Yang nevertheless questioned why dogs should be treated differently from other animals raised for food.

If dog meat is banned because dogs are animals, then why is it okay to eat other animals like cows, pigs or chicken?" he asked. "It's the same thing. These things exist in nature for people to live on.

Hwak has rehomed almost 2,800 dogs from South Korean meat farms since 2015. Compared with the estimated 466,000 to 520,000 dogs still being raised for food, that total is equivalent to roughly half of 1%. The figures show the difference in scale between individual rescue programs and the national transition.

Hwak has lobbied the ministry "hard" to include a clear rescue component in its phaseout plan. Animal welfare charities argue that they should not be expected to take responsibility for the vast number of dogs accumulated through decades of industrial farming.

Changing attitudes reshape a cultural dispute

Government polls show that 8% of respondents in 2024 had tried dog meat during the previous 12 months, down from 27% in 2015. That is a decline of 19 percentage points. A Gallup Korea poll in 2023 also found declining consumption.

Approximately 7% said they would continue eating dog meat until February 2027, while about 3.3% indicated they would continue after the ban becomes fully enforceable. About one in three South Koreans still opposes the ban, showing that reduced consumption and support for prohibition are different questions.

Younger generations increasingly view dogs as companions, reflecting the growth of pet culture. First Lady Kim Keon Hee repeatedly supported prohibition, bringing greater public attention to the campaign. Farmers directed intense criticism and crude insults at her during demonstrations.

The COVID-19 pandemic may also have helped change the debate. Concerns about disease passing from animals to humans at live animal markets prompted municipal authorities to discuss demolishing slaughtering facilities with dog retailers. Research suggests the pandemic helped open conversations about ending the practice to reduce the risk of such diseases in urban spaces.

Earlier disputes often centered on national identity. Before the 1988 Seoul Olympics, the 2002 FIFA World Cup and the 2018 Winter Olympics, criticism from Western countries intensified. The South Korean government temporarily banned dog meat sales ahead of those events to avoid offending foreign visitors.

Parts of civil society criticized those decisions as cultural imperialism, meaning pressure from outside to replace local customs with foreign values. For some opponents, the pressure recalled colonial experiences and encouraged a defense of dog meat consumption as a national cultural symbol. Influential public figures also supported the practice on those grounds.

Resistance continued as prohibition approached. In December 2023, dog farmers threatened to release two million dogs near lawmakers' homes and government landmarks in Seoul. The threat illustrated the intensity of an argument that combines animal welfare, cultural identity and economic survival.

A long history and an uneven legal position

Dog meat has existed in Korea for thousands of years without being a central part of the Korean diet. Archaeological evidence suggests dogs were eaten during the Neolithic age, roughly 6000 BC to 2000 BC.

Consumption was uncommon during the Silla period, from 57 BCE to 935 CE, and the Goryeo period, from 918 to 1392 CE, when Buddhism promoted vegetarianism. During the Joseon Dynasty, from 1392 to 1897, some government officials argued that dogs were human companions and called for a prohibition on eating them.

Dog meat was also regarded as a delicacy for certain occasions. Bosintang, a soup made with dog meat, was associated with Sambok, the three hottest days of summer in the Korean calendar, and eaten for its perceived medicinal properties.

Modern law gave the industry an unsettled position. Dogs had full legal status as livestock animals between 1975 and 1978, but that changed. The Animal Protection Act does not explicitly prohibit slaughtering dogs for food. It does prohibit killing animals "in a brutal way" and killing dogs in open places such as streets or in front of other animals of the same species.

Dog meat is excluded from the livestock list under the Livestock Processing Act of 1962, the main law governing hygienic livestock slaughter and meat processing. Dog farming consequently operated with less regulation than other livestock industries, including an absence of rules requiring humane slaughter methods.

Dog meat is also consumed in China, Vietnam, Indonesia, Laos, Myanmar, parts of northeastern India and several African nations. South Korea attracted particular international attention because of its economic and cultural prominence and its position as the only country with industrial scale dog farms.

February 2027 brings a firm deadline

The agriculture ministry remains confident that farming can be phased out by full enforcement. Its timetable requires the remaining businesses to close while local governments help dismantle facilities, support changes of occupation and take responsibility for surrendered animals.

Chan-woo hopes the grace period can be extended so that farmers have more time to reduce the number of dogs they hold.

"All we're hoping for now is that the grace period can be extended so that the process [of dealing with the remaining dogs] can happen more gradually," he said.

Joo also described farmers holding on to that possibility, while expressing fear about the human consequences of the deadline.

Right now, people are still holding on, hoping something might change - maybe the grace period will be extended," he said. "But by 2027, I truly believe something terrible will happen. There are so many people whose lives have completely unravelled.

The government's current position makes an extension appear unlikely. February 2027 remains the enforcement date, with the transition centered on voluntary early closures rather than a longer grace period.

South Korea's experience may offer lessons to other countries debating dog meat consumption. Its approach brings together a legal prohibition, compensation and business support, while leaving the demanding work of animal care and replacement livelihoods to be completed.

The closure of 78% of registered farms marks a major change in how South Korean society treats dogs, increasingly as companions rather than food. Completing the transition requires attention to the remaining 333 farms, the people whose incomes depend on the trade and the hundreds of thousands of animals awaiting a destination.

The Bottom Line

• By December 21, 2025, 1,204 of South Korea's 1,537 registered dog meat farms had closed, approximately 78%.
• More than half of farms scheduled to close in 2026 or 2027 shut earlier than planned.
• The law passed on January 9, 2024, took effect in August 2024 and reaches full enforcement in February 2027.
• The prohibition targets the dog meat supply industry; eating dog meat itself remains legal.
• Early closure payments range from 225,000 to 600,000 won per dog, against an industry demand of 2 million won.
• The National Dog Meat Association announced plans for lawsuits against more than 50 local governments, involving approximately 400 participants.
• An estimated 466,000 to 520,000 dogs face uncertain destinations, with adoption and shelter capacity under pressure.
• The government says euthanasia is not part of its plan and is investing approximately 6 billion won annually in shelter expansion and private facilities.
• Hwak has rehomed almost 2,800 dogs from meat farms since 2015.
• Government polls put recent consumption at 8% in 2024, compared with 27% in 2015, while about one in three South Koreans still opposes the ban.