A story about the time my dog locked me out of the car

One time I was traveling from Buffalo to Cleveland and stopped at Old Exit 7 in Erie, PA for gas. I was driving a Ford Explorer with my trusty dog Reagan in the back. At first everything was cool; pump operating, tank filling. I was almost done, then suddenly Reagan jumped from the hatch to the back seat to the front seat, proceeded to stomp on the power lock button, and LOCKED ME OUT OF THE CAR. Yes, my own dog locked me out of the car with my keys, purse and phone inside. Then he sat there in the driver’s seat barking, mocking me.

I had to call a locksmith and wait awhile, and the whole time Reagan sat in the driver’s seat staring at me. At one point I got so desperate I tried to get him to jump on the lock again to open the doors. But even if he knew how to do it he wouldn’t have. Because that’s the way Reagan rolls.

Here is the face he makes when he plays "fetch," which is really more like "hoard." He's daring me to try to get the ball. I never do.