Ah yes. Who doesn't like catnip? OK, there are one or two who are untouched by this heady feline neurochemistry, but I am not one of them.

Catnip, officially called ‘Nepeta Cataria’ if you insist on being precise about it, contains a compound called ‘nepetalactone’ which binds to receptors in our noses. 

Not our tongues, not our stomachs. 

Our noses. 

This is important. We don't "eat" catnip - although do remind me to tell you about that time Big Fluffy - well, enough about that. The usual way of experiencing catnip, and it is an experience, is to inhale it.

Once it hits those receptors, something remarkable happens. It's been explained to me as a sort of neurological jazz solo. Euphoria. Temporary madness. A brief but committed departure from dignity. And I love it. I have a range of little men - cat-filled toys in the shape of a fish - dotted around the place that my agent gets for me. They are, it has to be said, in varying states of, err, use.

You've seen it, I'm sure. The first scent hits and we're rolling around like we've just remembered we left the oven on, back feet getting in on the action as we suck, slurp and bite the magic treat in ever-increasing bursts of athleticism. And then - it passes. Just like that. Five to fifteen minutes of absolute chaos, followed by a return to composure as though nothing happened. You could call it cat professionalism.

Now, as I said, before you start thinking all cats are secretly olfactory enthusiasts, allow me to correct you. Only about 50 to 70 percent of us are enthusiasts. It's genetic and some cats simply aren't interested (poor them). I can't imagine offering someone the greatest party on Earth and having them respond with a polite blink to go back to licking their elbow.

I've noticed that kittens - Toto was one instance - are largely immune. Too young apparently or lacking the appreciation of the finer things in life. Older cats can also sometimes lose interest, which is likely less about biology and more about having been seen larking about enough times already.

The great thing is that the effect is harmless. Entirely. No long-term damage, no lingering side effects. Just a brief window of what I can only describe as being spectacularly unbothered by reality.

A good thing too is that there is a sort of cooling-off period when you just need to go off and do something else for 30 minutes or so. After one session, simply shoving more catnip in our direction won't have any effect. We will ignore you. Deliberately. As we sit upright, smooth our fur, and look at you as if you imagined the entire thing.

So, if you must present catnip, do so with a little respect. A measured offering - like my little men; throw it to me and I'll do the rest. When I'm done, I'm done. 

But please, if you're using the little men, don't throw them away. Once they have dried out there is an additional piquancy to them that I quietly appreciate.

Which, frankly, is how I prefer it.