Possibly It's the Sweet Sweet Smell of Old Lunches and Sneakers

  Imagine that you have a house. And in that house you have cozy sofas and nice beds and squashy arm chairs. You also have fluffy pillows and warm blankets. You have carpeting. You have laundry baskets full of laundry. You have kids, which invariably means clothing and nice thick warm winter coats on the floor. You also have a nice warm lap.

Imagine too that you have a cat. A cat who loves soft warm places to sleep, sunshine and heat vents, cushions and warm laps.

Now, picture a rough, scratchy canvas backpack covered in zippers and velcro flaps. It's lumpy. It's not soft. It's not warm. And whenever said backpack is on the floor, you also cannot see anything of it except the edges. Why? Because, if said backpack is on the floor, it is guaranteed to be covered with a long haired black and white cat.

Why?!?!? What is the allure of the backpack? Is it the smell of pencil shavings? The smell of road salt and school dirt? Maybe it's the smell of old lunches and sneakers. Or maybe it's just to keep us on our toes by doing yet another unexplainable thing. You know, like staring at the invisible beings in the room and following them around with your eyes.

Cats don't seem particularly intelligent, but they do know how to mess with their people.

Quack!