Homesick in Seoul: How a Dog Café Gave Me a Moment of Home
I’m not gonna lie, one of the hardest parts of studying abroad wasn’t the culture shock, the time difference, or even trying to order food with Google Translate in one hand and hope in the other.
It was leaving my dog behind.
There’s something about that wagging tail, those goofy eyes, the little routine of belly rubs and barking at the door that just grounds you. My dog isn’t just a pet, he’s family. My emotional support with fur. And not having him here in Korea? It’s been tough.
Enter: The Dog Café
On a random afternoon, after one of those homesick mornings where I really considered FaceTiming my dog (don’t judge), I wandered into a dog café in Seoul. I didn’t know what to expect.
And the moment I walked in? I was swarmed. Tiny paws tapping on the floor. Big eyes staring up like, “Where have you been?” It felt like I got tackled by joy.
One little Pomeranian even jumped into my lap uninvited. He didn’t care that I didn’t speak Korean. He just sat there like, “You need this, don’t you?” And yeah, I did.
Homesick, But Not Heartbroken
It’s wild how something so small, a coffee shop full of strangers’ dogs, can fill a piece of the void. That’s been the theme of my time here in Korea: small things keeping me grounded.
Whether it’s a street vendor who smiles every time I pass by, my church community here in Korea, or the bipolar weather that reminds me of Boston, these small, quiet comforts have become my anchors.
No, they’re not home. But they make me feel held.
Learning to Navigate the Missing
Missing home doesn’t mean I’m not grateful to be here. It just means I’m human. I’m still learning how to make space for joy and longing. To take in the newness without forgetting what I love back home.
Some days, that means crying a little. Other days, it means taking myself on a solo walk through a quiet park and remembering this chapter of my life is just as important as the ones before it.
And when it gets really tough? I remind myself: my dog is probably sleeping in the same exact spot he always does. Waiting for me. Tail ready to wag again.
Final Thoughts
If you’re abroad and missing home, whether it's your dog, your family, your favorite corner store, know that it’s okay to feel both full and a little empty at the same time.
Sometimes healing looks like finding a dog café in a city 6,000 miles from home… and letting a fluffy stranger remind you that love shows up in many forms.
Even if it drools.
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