My mother was born in the Philippines back when it was an American colony and lived there until she was 12. While I was growing up, she never once served us dog. When I was growing up our dog, Lassie--she was a collie--was hit by a car. My Dad scooped her up and we went to the vet's office. In thought we were going to get Lassie patched up. We weren't. Lassie was euthanized. When we got home, I personally dug the hole in the back yard under the apple tree while my older brother made a wooden cross and my older sister used her wood burning kit to write Lassie's name on the cross. No where in that series of events did my mother ever suggest that we eat Lassie.