Everybody who has a dog calls him Rover or Boy. I call mine Sex. He’s a great pal, but he has caused me a great deal of embarrassment. When I went to city Hall to renew his dog license, I told the clerk I would like a license for Sex. He said, “I’d like one, too!” Then I said, “But this is for a dog.” He said he didn’t care what she looked like. Then I said, “You don’t understand. I’ve had Sex since I was 9 years old.” He winked and said, “You must have been quite a kid.” When I got married and went on my honeymoon, I took the dog with me. I told the motel clerk that I wanted a room for my wife and me and a special room for Sex. He said, “You don’t need a special room. As long as you pay your bill, we don’t care what you do.” I said, “Look, you don’t seem to understand. Sex keeps me awake at night.” The clerk said, “Funny—I have the same problem.” One day, I entered Sex in a contest, but before the competition began, the dog ran away. Another contestant asked me why I was just standing there, looking disappointed. I told him I had planned to have Sex in the contest. He told me I should have sold my own tickets. “But you don’t understand,” I said, “I had hoped to have Sex on TV.” He said, “Now that cable is all over the place, it’s no big deal anymore.” When my wife and I separated, we went to court to fight for custody of the dog. I said, “Your Honor, I had Sex before I was married.” The judge said, “This courtroom isn’t a confessional. Stick to the case, please.” Then I told him that after I was married, Sex left me. He said “That’s not unusual. It happens to a lot of people.” Last night, Sex ran off again. I spent hours looking for him. A cop came over to me and asked, “What are you doing in this alley at 4 o’clock in the morning?” I told him that I was looking for Sex. My case comes up Friday.