Spotted Pair Investigates Smelly Human
By some strange chance my mother actually had a bottle of aloe vera gel in the closet; I think this is because I taught her to use it on George when his skin got irritated. It seems, however, that every summer I end up buying a new jar of Noxzema for my annual case of sunburn, as the previous year's jar, like various other handy supplies, disappears into some box or other out in the shed.
I meant to buy a new jar of Noxzema, since I've never run across any of the old ones, but before I got around to it I went hunting for the various pairs of shoes that I left here before going to Prague. It was not all that clear which box might have which shoes (I am still hunting for one pair), and in the search I actually found an elderly jar of Noxzema. I suspect it to be the jar I left behind when I started grad school.
Torn between joy at not having to buy yet another jar of a substance that gets only occasional use, and irritation at discovering all sorts of medicines that my parents could have been using up but which are now long expired (I imagine they have had much more use for 600mg Ibuprofen tablets than I have), I slathered the stuff on the afflicted areas and went back to work.
An hour or two later, when I gave the rabbits their evening treat and lay down to pet them, they both took an unusual interest in my body. Ah! what fascinating hands! such calves! we must climb all over our human tonight, she is so intriguing!
While I kind of like the eucalyptus-and-menthol odor of Noxzema myself, I would never have imagined it might appeal to rabbits. They appeared to find it an especially pleasing scent.
It's my understanding that the portion of the lapine brain devoted to the sense of smell exceeds that of dogs, which as everyone knows far exceeds that of mere humans. One can only wonder what sort of enchanting message rabbits find in Noxzema.