Philip Roth: The canine complex (a punny obituary)

This is story from: Philip Roth in the Curious Case of the Dog and the Poisoned Hamburger

“There’s a dog upstairs that barks. I’d like to give it a kick or some poisoned hamburger.” (Il y a un chien qui jappe au-dessus. J’aimerais lui donner un coup de pied ou un hamburger empoisonné.)

Here is my punny obituary (I started a joke):

A guy walks into a bar with his dog. The bartender says: "No dogs in here, please". "You don't get it," says the man, "it's no ordinary dog, my dog CAN talk." "OK pal" says the bartender. "If your dog can talk, I'll offer you the next drink". The man puts the dog on a stool, and asks him, very slowly, with separated words: "What... is... on top... of your... dog house?" 

"Roof!" goes the dog, gently. "Alright", says the bartender, "you got me. Here's your beer".

The guy slowly sips the cold beer, and after a while says: "let me try another one". Turning to the dog a second time: "How is your dog life?" 

"Rough!" barks the dog.  

"That's not so fair", says the bartender, "can you do something very cultural?". The dog's master thinks for a couple of seconds. And then, approaching his face to the dog head, asks gently: "Now, more difficult: who is the most talented American writer?". And the dog, with an interrogative tone: 

"Roth?" 

"I guess I have heard enough" says the bartender angrily, "get out NOW!" As they are on the street, the dog turns to the man and asks:

"Do you think I should have said 'Paul Auster' instead?"