Having been in very close quarters with two often comatose, and just as often, totally manic cats, it gives me great hope that I will be back to my regular work schedule next week.

Oh don’t get me wrong. Sir and I both love them – don’t you Sir! – but sometimes their attention span rivals that of a gnat on sedatives, and it can get a little tetchy at times.

No matter how many toys they have, it seems their whole goal in life is to investigate everything possible in the feline world and pick something not remotely toy-like with which to, well, toy. Like computer equipment, or an errant paper towel on the counter. New empty boxes are inspected with a ferocious eye to detail, and any shonky piece of tape is immediately ripped off and in all probability chewed to bits.

We’ve come to the realization that Lil Herbie – weighing in at 8 pounds – is the instigator, or brains of the operation, and Braveheart – weighing in at 11 pounds – is the brawn.

Our deterrent spray bottles filled with water have helped to a degree, but I did read you don’t want the kitties frightened of you, you want them frightened of the things they shouldn’t get into – or indeed onto.

My darling Madam sent me beautiful tulips for Mother’s’Day, these naturally causing great concern to Braveheart and Lil Herbie. I must have rescued the vase half a dozen times during the course of daylight hours, only relaxing when bedtime came and I could safely store them in the fridge. It became quite delightful to open the fridge, but I will confess it didn’t display their beauty quite as I’d liked, being nestled up against the Chateau Cardboard box of wine and the coffee creamer.

I reached the last straw when I had to wrestle well-chewed tulip leaves from Braveheart’s maw, and thence reading that they were toxic to cats, I spent a vigilant day making sure the little bugger – oh, I mean my gorgeous cat – didn’t keel over and start frothing.

Knowing my five peony bushes are about to explode with blooms, I have to come up with a solution, or there’ll be no room in the fridge for inconvenient things, like food.

Madam suggested I put aluminum foil on the counters. Tried it. Failed. What I came down to in the morning was aluminum foil replete with paw prints – they must’ve found it quite enchanting to see their fuzzy little reflections, I guess, and did it deter them? Not a jot.

But I’m delighted to tell you, Amazon has come to my rescue. I found clear plastic mats with raised – not sharp but definitely “there” – spikes. After night one I found one on the floor, but fingers crossed, there’s been no more counter jumping – so far.

So it’s back to work next week. No doubt the office will be resplendent with my flowers over the next couple of weeks, and I hope, so will the house.

In the words of a very wise woman, my wonderful mother – “what the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.” For my eight hours at the office, I can live in blissful ignorance.

Annie Dear lives in Lee’s Summit. Email her at anniedear@icloud.com.