Back in the day, when I lived in Hawaii, I had a Swiss Army backpack that lived in the car. It was full of beach gear. Bathing suit, towel, sunblock, hairbrush, first aid kit, rain slicker, flash light, emergency blanket... (You don't know the people I went to the beach with. I'd have taken signal flares except for the safety issue when they overheat.) I never knew quite when I'd wind up at the beach, so I always had the gear along.
When it wound up in the house by accident, Sekhmet could never get enough of it. She'd lay on it, rub her face over it, knead it, crawl inside it, and generally never leave it alone. We figured it had to do with some - possibly fishy - scent the bag picked up, laying in the sand.
Apparently, even after seven thousand miles and three years in the closet, the romance is not gone.