My Jeep conspires against me

It started out like any other day.
I like to begin stories with that, even though it's not true.  It started out as a night shift and turned into the day that never ended.  Until 26 hours later.
At the end of November, my dad came from Ukraine to visit.  He spent a couple of days with The Guy and me before travelling on to visit his siblings and mine across the rest of Western Canada.  On the last leg of his journey, he returned to my fair city for another few days knowing this was the best way for both of us to keep from killing each other.
It's the same reason he moved to Ukraine.  He will tell you it was for his wife, but really it was so I wouldn't bury him in the front yard and tell someone the water main broke.
Somehow, it turned out that I was working nights for most of the time he was in town.  It worked out okay, he was busy enough during the day that he didn't need attending to until I'd slept.  We hung out the rest of the time and I went to work when the house headed to bed again.
This is a really long explanation for a back story.
The point was this: I had gone to work my last night shift before dropping Dad off at the airport the next morning.  I came home at 8am, packed up the Jeep, went for greasy breakfast, and I put him on the plane.  I was home and asleep by 10:30am and up by 3:30pm.  I knew I couldn't sleep too long for two reasons.  First, I needed to sleep that night and, second, my sister Ky was flying in that evening.
Poor The Guy was bombarded with my family for the entire month of December.  Yet, he still loves me. He's a treasure, that one.
Around 11:30pm, I dragged my tired rear end to the airport.  Monty accompanied me -- he loves car rides, Ky, and I knew I wouldn't be long.
Now, Monty weighs about 18 lbs.  Yet, if he sits in the passenger seat of the Jeep, it requests that I put the seatbelt on.  It also does this for my purse. And no, my purse weighs nowhere near 18 lbs.
In the past, I have wrapped the seatbelt around the back of the seat and buckled it in.  That way, the dog can sit comfortably (on the heated seats -- don't judge me) and I don't have to listen to the constant beeping that makes me homicidal.  It's a good system. Except that when I wrapped the seatbelt, it got away from me, wrapped around the head rest and stuck there.
At the airport, I wrestled with the stupid seatbelt, but couldn't get it loosened.  Frustrated, I jumped out of the Jeep and ran into the building because I was late.  On the way in, I realized -- I had no idea where I left my keys.  I mulled that around my brain a bit, searched my purse repeatedly, and waited for Ky to land.
Dragging her 400lb suitcase to the Jeep, we peered into the window.  There were my keys.  On the passenger seat.  Under the dog.  Son of a...
I tried to get the dog to dance around enough he'd accidentally open the door.  He's accidentally locked it before, so I figured it was a possibility.  After a few minutes (longer than I like to admit) I had to break down and get Ky to call CAA.
When they arrived, I offered them the dog in payment.  They broke into the Jeep in less than a minute (COMFORTING) and we were on our way.
Ky had to sit in the back seat.
Stupid seatbelt.