Three labs, found somewhere, turned in for adoption.
They didn't look like this when I got them. They were somewhat miserable, dirty, skinny little things.
Instead of donating them to the Humane Society, the puppies' rescuer gave them to an organization that pulls dogs from the county pound—specifically, dogs on the "death list"—and finds temporary homes for them until they can be adopted. It's a good idea, in theory. This means the dogs live in foster homes for a while, perhaps for the rest of their lives, because getting dogs adopted is no easy task.
I had these guys for two weeks. Gave them baths, combed out the scabs, fattened up the skinny one whose hip bones stuck out from malnourishment (on the left). Dealt with digestive issues, dealt with loneliness issues. Administered many belly rubs. At the end of two weeks, we have three brilliant, healthy, well-behaved dogs.
And at the end of two weeks...none were adopted. Nobody has been interested, not really.
I can't hang on to them anymore, I am leaving town for a few days, so I had to give them back. The organization put them in a kennel while they continue to advertise them on the internet. I don't see that as fair to the dogs, nor is it an effective way to find families, so I offered to bring them to the Humane Society. But no, they want to deal with it themselves... it's not my choice, so okay...
I don't envision these dogs getting adopted anytime soon.