Obviously I am a Front Seat Dog.  Winston is a back seat dog.  I had to go to work, I was needed ASAP, right away, vite!, tout suite, GET OUT OF THE VAN WINSTON!!!!

Does he get out?  No.  He wants to drive.  He has seen Grandpa drive and it looks easy.  Sure, except for the lack of opposable thumbs and the ability to reach the pedals.  And the lack of a key. 

So I calmly called Nana who reasoned with Winston the Nail Eater in some sort of psychobabble and eventually Grandpa got him out.

That DOG!

We were late, of course so Nana was cross and I had to regroup.  That DOG.