up in her lap and put handfuls of canned food directly in his mouth. He won’t eat otherwise, she told me.
The Daejeon Jindos Through Hyunjoo, Ms. Jung has told me all the Jindos were meat market rescues: despite her own poverty, she purchased 14 of them on different occasions between 2005 and 2007. Some were already in the hands of butchers; others were on trucks; others were about to be sold to markets. About a year ago, Ms. Jung went back to Asan to reclaim the eight who still hadn’t been adopted or taken into foster care. A mother and daughter pair share the only enclosed pen in the front yard. The wooden pens to the side of the house have no doors or latches, so the other six Jindos are tethered to prevent fights. One Jindo, Samsuni, was in a fight at the Asan shelter and has a split lip that will never completely heal. Vanilla, the most dog-aggressive Jindo in the group, lost an ear in a separate fight. Since the last time I visited, Ms. Jung had taken in two more dogs from a local dog meat supplier. Both dogs are very friendly—a large mixed-breed named Boksil now lives in the house with the smaller dogs, and a stocky extra-large dog named Mideum is chained in a corner in the front yard. Hyunjoo told me Mideum is a traditional “yellow dog,” bred to be meat. Hwindong, the medium-sized dog who fathered the puppies, repeatedly teased Mideum when I was there but Mideum showed no reaction. Compared with other private shelters in Korea, conditions at Daejeon Paws are probably well above average—so many “shelters” seem to be the work of kindhearted individuals with few resources and no real plan. Many of the little dogs here are elderly or very shy—for those dogs, staying with Ms. Jung for the rest of their lives may be the happiest ending possible. Still, four years after the Daejeon 150 became famous, it’s sad to see six Jindos (and one new dog) chained up and living outdoors. Tanpoong’s adoption last year was one of several success stories involving Ms. Jung’s Jindos. Hayley left Asan in 2010 after at least three years in shelters and instantly housetrained herself. In Hayley’s adoption post on Animal Rescue Korea, her foster father Martyn described her as “very clever and very well adjusted despite all the crap and isolation she’s had to put up with.” After months of working to gain her trust, Martyn placed Hayley in a permanent home and she now lives in the United States with another rescued Jindo. Jinger and Copper were both taken into foster care in 2010, but their foster mother couldn’t give them up. It all started when a few Asan volunteers used the ARK message board to send an urgent request for help. Jinger had been attacked by another dog, and the volunteers were worried that her wounds might get infected. After some discussion, Vicki Madsen agreed to take Jinger home to recover. Vicki was in Korea as a military spouse, having left her own two dogs in the United States in her mother’s temporary care. She had no plans to adopt a dog during her time here—but she recently returned to the United States with four new rescues, including Jinger and Copper. Copper (a white Jindo named after the colour of her eyes) was set to fly to the United States for adoption and was in foster care undergoing heartworm treatment. When Copper’s first foster mother had to leave Korea, Vicki couldn’t stand the thought of the gentle dog having to return to Asan. There was one complication: Vicki’s husband had just rescued a dog himself. “Three dogs?” he asked her. “My husband finally gave in when I agreed he wouldn’t have to care for her at all,” Vicki said soon after the new addition. “It would be all my job. Of course that went by the wayside. He helps me take them out and feed them and everything and he’s trying to work on her so she isn’t as afraid of men.” But Vicki also worried that Copper would have a hard time adjusting to another home if she stayed with Vicki’s family for much longer. “Jinger trusted easier than Copper does,” she said, “and that’s not saying a whole lot.”