Travels with CharlieGodammit

I got in from wherever a couple of Saturdays ago, opened the back door and kicked back in my easy chair, ready to call it a day at 9 AM. CharlieGodammit wasn't having any of that though. He wandered back to the mud porch and got his leash, then brought it in and dropped it at my feet, looking at me with those big brown eyes that most normal people with normal dogs would interpet as "Please? Can we go to the dog park so I can run and play with my doggie friends?
Normal being the operative word here. What he was really saying was "Hey. Motherfucker that feeds me. Either we go to the dog park so I can piss everywhere and burn off some of this energy or my backyard is going to look like a battlefield next time you come home."
So I load him in the cab of my truck because I've yet to put a dog box in the back.
We're driving to the park and he's stretched out the entire length of the seat with his head in my lap, howling. I'm scratching his chest, trying to keep him down, and he stretches real big. His right front paw comes up and taps the horn.
Beep.
He quits howling, his head pops up and he gives me a What the fuck was that look.
Oh no.
He taps the horn again.
Beep.
And again.
Beep beep.
Charlie: "Hey! Check this shit out!"
Me: "Quit, Godammit!"
Charlie: "Fuck you!" Beep beep beep beepbeepbeepbeeeeeeeep.
Me: CHARLIE YOU MOTHERFUCKER, QUIT!!!"
Charlie: "This is fucking cooler than shit, Guy That Feeds Me! (beep beep) Why didn't you turn me onto this before?" Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
So now anytime we go anywhere, everybody around me is pissed off because I'm honking at them. And of course it's me honking because they can't see CharlieGodammit - he's laying down pushing the horn.
So this weekend I'm putting a dog box in the back of my truck.