This is part X of my 3-month journey in Sri Lanka, as a volunteer for WECare Worldwide.
My first experience in dog welfare began with walking dogs at a shelter in Korea. Many of these dogs had been rescued from the streets, where they faced dangers like starvation, traffic accidents, or even ending up on dinner tables. The shelter provided them with safety, rest, and hope for a better future.
However, the reality behind those shelter walls was far from ideal. In a small warehouse-like complex, numerous dogs shared tiny kennel spaces. At best, they received a monthly walk, with little other enrichment. The weak adoption culture, especially for medium and large breeds, meant that many dogs spent their days trapped inside, staring at the same scenery as their hopes for a new home dwindled with each passing day.
These weekly walks sparked a turning point in my life. I left my 7-to-7 corporate job to explore a career dedicated to improving dog welfare. My first step was volunteering with WECare in Sri Lanka, an island nation where one to three million street dogs coexist with twenty-two million people. On my flight there, I secretly braced myself for what I imagined would be a hellish scene of malnourished, hairless dogs covered in maggots. If we were rescuing dogs off the streets into shelters, then street dogs must be living in worse conditions, right?
Reality painted a different picture. WECare’s crucial services, including free medical care and CNVR (Catch-Neuter-Vaccinate-Release) programs, had made a difference. But what truly surprised me was that even street dogs that had never received treatment seemed to live reasonably well. Many were fed by local guardians and spent their days strolling or napping. They played with each other, barked at monkeys, and chased after wild pigs. Every day, they walked miles and enjoyed abundant environmental enrichment.
Three dogs in particular brought this lesson home. They had claimed the WECare warehouse as their territory, playing in the parking lot and resting in our office. Watching them, I questioned my assumptions: had we been locking dogs away in Korean shelters more for our convenience than their benefit? A survey of Italian veterinarians seemed to validate this doubt, suggesting that community dogs in Italy enjoyed slightly better welfare than their sheltered counterparts.
Yet the solution isn’t as simple as letting shelter dogs become community dogs in Korea. Despite the enrichment that street dogs enjoy, such an approach wouldn’t work in Korean cities, where people have grown accustomed to lives free from barking and roaming dogs. Culture, once shifted, rarely reverses course.
Life on Sri Lankan streets wasn’t entirely idyllic. Despite government investment, many dogs needed flea and tick treatments. Some battled TVT (Transmissible Venereal Tumor), and puppy mortality remained high. I encountered more three-legged dogs during my three-month stay than in eight years in Korea. In other parts of the world, street dogs face even harsher conditions, with average lifespans as brief as three years in some African countries.
The traditional answer would be sheltering. After all, streets free of roaming dogs and cities with well-equipped animal shelters are often seen as hallmarks of progress and civilization. But in countries like Sri Lanka, housing all animals in shelters isn’t a viable solution — at least not in the short term. Shelters are expensive and labor-intensive. Even in the best facilities, dogs suffer from boredom and anxiety.
My time in Sri Lanka showed me an obvious but crucial lesson: different countries require different solutions. What street dogs universally need is medical attention. From rabies to car accidents to abuse, organizations like WECare make a vital difference. Equally important is community education about responsible pet ownership and population control.
Korean shelter dogs face different challenges. Most are fortunate to receive basic vaccines, but they need more. Beyond changing adoption culture, there’s an urgent need to professionalize shelter operations and recruit volunteers to improve the quality of life for long-term residents.
Dog welfare remains a significant challenge in both contexts, yet some improvements require minimal effort. Simple enrichment activities in shelters — from swapping blankets to providing frozen meals — can be free and require little volunteer time. Medical care for the street dogs, while expensive, can be more effective if community members are willing to help with reporting and transporting dogs in need. Even those who can’t provide a permanent home can contribute meaningfully to improving dogs’ lives.
As my time in Sri Lanka drew to a close, I pondered a question that still haunts me: Having witnessed both worlds, would I rather be a shelter dog or a street dog? It’s not an easy choice to make. But as I trade my stable corporate career for the uncertainty of animal welfare work, perhaps I’ve already shown my answer — I’m more of a street dog at heart.
This is part X of my 3-month journey in Sri Lanka, as a volunteer for WECare Worldwide.