WHY AM I FOSTERING?

ok.  Mr Fog enjoyed his blogging yesterday.  Which is good, cause today, he is in rare form, which makes me wonder, WHY am I fostering ?  Fog is 2 1/2 years old.  If you've never had a 2 year old greyhound, let me say it reminds me of having a 2 1/2 year old child in the house.  If you don't watch them and monitor them then, you will find the most challenging issues to deal with.
  At 2 a.m. River was snarking at OstnFog.  When I was able to observe what was happening, I saw River on her bed next to me, and Fogston the floor next to River.  Over the next 10 minutes Fostnostn managed to wiggle his way over and put his head on her bed, which made her nuts!  Lots of snarking, growling, and whinning.  I took him out side just to break the pattern.  He came up stairs and laid under the window.  This was the beginning of Fog's bad day.
Bill got up and fed them so I could sleep. At 9, everyone greeted me.  I went to the garage, and Fog stayed with me.  He proceeded to pick up a bungi cord and drag it, hook end across the floor, and snag a bag of dog coats, and dragged it 3 feet. "No, Bad, Leave it, Etc" just sent him to box of milk bones. He doesn't like milk bones.  No, leave it, etc.  Finally we went in.  I was doing some decluttering and Macho and Fogn was with me. I looked at Fosten and he had a flip flop in his mouth.  I put it away.  Then I looked at him and he had a jump drive in his mouth. chomp, chomp, took that away, NO.  I went about cleaning, and looked up and saw Ostnfosten chewing on a blanket and trying to take it outside. NO.  Within minutes I heard the sound of water running onto carpet.  He was going number one on the buffet.  NO, Bad, took him outside.
When he came in, I put his diaper on him.  He didn't like that all!
In retaliation...I was getting stew ready for dinner. I put the meat in the bowl, went to get something out of the fridge, almost closing his nose in the fridge door, and then went to get something out of the pantry.  I heard a slurping noise. Turned around and found FOG with his nose in the bowl of meat, happilly eating away, on the counter. NO BAD_GET and I went to move him out of the kitchen. He has been instructed and shown many times to GET out of the kitchen. As I reached for his collar, he sauntered out of the kitchen.

We all went outside.  I took his diaper off, and he went potty.  We came back in, and I went back to work in the kitchen, I looked down and found him laying next to me.

with this sort of look, how can a foster mom want to give up?  He is comfortable here and is learning his boundaries.