A foster family dumped an eight-year-old autistic boy at a county office just as the shelter next door dragged a deaf, scarred rescue dog to be put to sleep.
The foster mother was waving her hands frantically on the sidewalk, complaining loudly to the social worker. She called the boy a “defective placement,” saying he was simply too difficult, too unresponsive, and too much work.
Through the windshield of my rusted pickup truck, I watched the boy standing on the blistering pavement. He was swallowed up by a faded, oversized jacket, with heavy noise-canceling headphones clamped over his ears, rocking back and forth on his heels.
Right across the chain-link fence, another rejection was happening at the county animal control center. Two shelter workers were struggling to pull a massive, heavily scarred, mixed-breed dog across the gravel courtyard.
The dog was a giant, muscle-bound creature with a blocky head. He had been labeled aggressive, unadoptable, and completely deaf. Today was his last day.
