Picture this. A fella is about to beat a dog to death and cook it for dinner when a horrified foreigner begs for the torture to stop. He, or she, rescues the animal by buying poor Rover. This won't happen in the back streets of Kuala Lumpur, where if you have a nose for exotic meat, you can still find snake soup, monitor lizard porridge, braised iguana, smoked crocodile meat and others.

But in the cities of modern, high-tech South Korea, where football's World Cup is being held, Western tourists might be dashing into restaurants and saving dogs from the cooking pots.

What is most unappetising and disturbing about dog-eating in Korea is the way they kill the animal. A dog is hanged by the neck and beaten to death with a stick. Koreans believe that a painful and slow death enhances the taste and aphrodisiac qualities of the meat. A report said that in 1993 two million dogs were eaten by Koreans.

Last week, pictures of Spanish coach Jose Antonio Camacho – cuddling a pup that was rescued by a foreign TV crew from a dog market – were flashed around the world. The lucky doggie, spared from an agonising death, was nicknamed "Camachin" and became Spain's new team mascot.

The more than 6,000 dog-meat restaurants in Korea cook the canines in many ways. More than 80, I am told. You can have ginseng dog, roast dog, stewed dog, dog kebab, dog soup, etc. If you are tired of the staple dog dish – the specially bred nurangi yellow dogs, you can have Pekingese, Spaniel, Collie, Labrador or other breeds.

I hope all this is not true, that these reports have been conjured into a big bone of contention by Western animal rights activists out of scraps of information gathered in the streets of Korea.

Koreans do keep dogs as pets, but when they get tired of them or when the critters grow old they are sold off to the meat market. That's a dog's life.

In Korea, the most popular dog dish is a soupy stew called boshintang which literally means soup that builds up the body. International animal rights groups have been howling at the Korean government, urging it to eradicate the dog eating culture. And protests have been launched against Beijing, host of the 2008 Olympic Games as the Chinese have been reported to be eating Saint Bernards.

You can pursue the issue doggedly. But how do you behave like a dog in the manger and tell a nation of people, who are so fiercely proud of their tradition and culture, that their culinary habit is distasteful? I have nothing against people eating dogs, that is if they are starving. After all, the dog is man's best friend and would readily give its life to defend its master. For example, if the North Koreans, who were facing starvation a few years ago, wanted to eat their dogs, I guess it would be morally right. But it goes against the conscience to eat dogs simply because you believe it makes the eater healthy and more virile.

Throughout history, the dog has complemented mankind – faithfully, fearlessly serving its master. It is a noble creature, full of affection, and loyal, no matter how cruel its owner is. And it doesn't throw tantrums.

Dog eaters can argue dogmatically that it is no different from killing cows, goats and pigs for their meat. After all, they are four-legged animals too.

Doggone it, you can argue. Can you get a cow to do search and rescue? Can you get a pig to lead the blind? Can you get a goat to guard your house? Which animal prances and wags its tail in joy when you come home from work, dog-tired? Do you appreciate gratitude? That is unless you believe that animals have rights.

The older generation of Hakka in this country, I am told, like clay pot dog meat spiced with herbs. Curry dog meat never seems to have caught on nor has satay dog.

I am half Hakka (on my mother's side) and I love to eat dog too, hot dog that is. Curious, I asked some of my local friends whether they had eaten dog meat. To my surprise, a number of them said "yes".

Most of them said they ate dog meat when they were young when their parents bought it from restaurants.

"It tasted quite ordinary, like squirrel meat," said a coy female colleague.

"It tasted like red meat... like beef," said a male colleague.

"How was the dog killed?" I asked.

"They killed it fast. Whacked the dog on the head with a blow or two." Sickening. But it is still more humane than the Korean way. The good thing is that few Malaysians eat dog meat nowadays – most of them consume their "dogs" at fast food joints.

Let me tell you, in a dog-eat-dog world, the canine has proved to be more loyal and faithful than people's relationships with fellow humans.