I completely forget to mention that Sarah and I tried to kill Quincy this weekend. Since we were traveling with the pooch, we decided to rent a car for the weekend so we wouldn't trash our vehicle. Anyway we are cruising on Interstate 84 in our 2005 Subaru Outback for about 45 minutes and Quincy decides that it is time for a pit stop so he begins his whining campaign until we acknowledge him and his needs. It usually takes the fat basset about 5 minutes before he finds the right frequency for his whine that will drive me and Sarah crazy and force us to do as he wishes. We pull into this tiny town called Sand Hollow and let Quincy take care of his business. We load him back up and Sarah helps me give Quincy some anti-anxiety medicine for the rest of the trip. She has to toss the keys up to the driver's seat to help me and neither of us think anything of it. We finish with Quinc and shut the doors to the car, so now all the doors are shut and for some reason the new Subarus lock automatically 10 seconds after the doors are shut. So Quincy is hanging out in the car with all the windows up and the car locked with the keys sitting right in the front seat. Did I mention it was like 95 degrees as well? Sarah and I start freaking out because we are in the middle of nowhere and our poor dog is going to melt right in front of our eyes. I start looking for big rocks because I am ready to bust open a window. And Quincy is completely calm because he just took his anti-anxiety medicine so he is having a good time. To make a long story shorter, while I was on the found with AAA to get some help ASAP, Sarah found a guy inside the town's only cafe to help us out. He used a coat hanger to get the door open and helped save the fat basset from being cooked. We bought him and his wife dinner for their help, and we felt very fortunate for their help. The moral of the story: Don't ever let your dog stop in Sand Hollow to pee.