guilt trip from my dog

I think Ike has figured out my dirty little secret.

See, Ike lives here.

He's never shown any interest in sniffing or chewing on any of the books above his bed until a few months ago, when he chose one book from one of the stacks to bring to me in the living room.

Can you see the title?

Why did he want me to have this book? Is it because he knows that I happen to be looking for a new book to read? Does he somehow know that this Jewish girl, who went to Sunday school and Hebrew school and participated in 4378453 Holocaust programs at Jewish summer camp and SHARES THE SAME BIRTHDAY AS ANNE FRANK has never read her diary! I mean, I've been to her house! How did they let me in??

So, thanks to a guilt trip from my dog, I swore I would read this for the first time. Six months have passed, and well, I haven't read it. I think it's time. Maybe I can have a book club with a local 5th grade Sunday school class.