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.
4 comments:
Maybe it's something about backpacks. My husband uses one for work. He works in Phila. and if he comes home and lays it on the bed, one of the cats will lay on it and rub all over it. He will lay on it and just love all over it. We have never been able to figure it out. Both cats like plastic bags to lay on but they really love the backpack.
Mmmm...dead fish, three years old... and, of course, you. (Probably, mostly you...)
My cat does the same thing to all of my luggage and my work backpack -- but when I get a delivery, all he really cares about is the box.
Jumps in. Jumps out. Flings peanuts everywhere. Jumps back in.
Pouts when I put the box out with the recycling.
Hmm. Thinks my friends would worry if the living room suddenly turned into Cardboard Central?
Whenever it looks like one of us is about to go out, Stinker will sink her claws into whatever bag she thinks I'm leaving with.
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