SEOUL, Sept. 29 (Korea Bizwire) — On a crisp September morning in rural Yeoncheon, a 70-year-old man had been missing for two days. Police and firefighters scoured the fields and riverbanks, but time was slipping away.

Daechan, a rescue dog, stands in a dignified pose. (Photo provided by Gyeonggi Northern 119 Special Response Unit)
Then, “Daechan,” a 119 rescue dog, was brought in. Within 30 minutes, the dog froze at a patch of ground, signaling his handlers. Moments later, the missing man was found — alive.
It was not the first time a service dog had pulled someone back from the edge of tragedy. In 2022, when an apartment building in Gwangju collapsed, another rescue dog, “Sobeki,” located four of six missing workers.
Over a nine-year career, Sobeki saved 13 people and deployed to more than 200 disaster sites.
Yet when Sobeki retired, his life changed dramatically. Adopted after years of service, he died just 12 days later, his body frail from age and illness. His story has become a painful symbol of what animal advocates call South Korea’s blind spot: the lives of service animals after they have given their best years to humans.

On February 10, 2023, in Antakya, Hatay, Türkiye, a rescue dog named “Tobeki,” injured during search operations, continues working with a bandaged paw. (Yonhap)
A Life of Service, Then Neglect
South Korea has about 1,200 service animals — military dogs, police dogs, and rescue dogs. Most begin training as puppies and work for seven to eight years before retiring around age ten. With an average lifespan of 12 to 14 years, retirement should mean a peaceful final chapter.
Instead, many end up in kennels, waiting indefinitely for adoption. A recent survey found that only 22 percent of retired service dogs were adopted into homes last year. The rest lived out their final days in shelters, often without adequate medical care.
During active duty, veterinary costs are covered by government budgets. But once retired, funding disappears. Some agencies quietly reallocate money to cover treatments, but most do not.
When illnesses become costly, euthanasia is sometimes the only option. “They are essentially written off as depreciated property,” said Lee Young, director of the Sustainable Development Institute. “Many are left behind, unmanaged, or in some cases, even lost.”

At the National Assembly Policy Forum on “Establishing a Legal Basis for Supporting Service Animals,” held on September 23 in the main conference hall of the National Assembly Members’ Office Building, 119 rescue dog Irang wags its tail with a smile. (Yonhap)
The Medical Gap
Even active service animals face limited healthcare. The military operates just three veterinary hospitals nationwide — in Chuncheon, Jinju, and Daejeon — leaving Seoul and Incheon without facilities.
Complex procedures like chemotherapy cannot be performed, and the shortage of veterinarians means 24-hour care is impossible, even though many service dogs work night shifts.
A single surgery at a private clinic can cost up to 7 million won ($5,000). With budgets tight, agencies often send their dogs to military hospitals that lack specialized staff and equipment.

Police dog Rui stands in a dignified pose at the National Assembly Policy Forum on “Establishing a Legal Basis for Supporting Service Animals,” held on September 23 in the main conference hall of the National Assembly Members’ Office Building. (Yonhap)
A Push for Change
Kim Ye-ji, a lawmaker who is visually impaired and works with a guide dog, has made service animal welfare a personal mission. In August, she introduced a bill to amend the Animal Protection Act, allowing the state and local governments to fund the care of both active and retired service animals.
At a National Assembly forum last week, Kim recalled meeting “Yerang,” a retired military dog waiting in a kennel. “Seeing how uncertain his future was, I felt we had to act,” she said. “Service animals deserve dignity in retirement, just as they do during their years of service.”
The forum highlighted adoption programs, life-cycle support systems, and stronger government accountability. Advocates stressed that laws alone are not enough — public awareness must also change.
“They are heroes who saved lives,” Lee said. “It is our turn to give them back the lives they deserve.”
For Daechan and the other dogs still serving in disaster zones, the spotlight shines brightly when they save lives. But for those who have retired, the shadows often fall quickly.
Whether South Korea can build a system that honors their service beyond their working years may determine if future heroes, like Sobeki, live their final days in comfort — or in neglect.
Lina Jang (linajang@koreabizwire.com)







