Dude - the spray bottles have never worked in our home either.
Our current cat is too fat to jump on to the kitchen counters.
But she has other bad habits - like scratching our recliners - I’m now glad we didn’t buy the expensive leather ones.
Face licking - oh yah - but never on the mouth- lol
Dude - do you not have a cat now for health reasons?
Regarding the spray bottle, it worked, initially. But, over time, I would walk toward her with it and she would just crouch-down, close her eyes, and wait for the blast of water. But, she would no longer get off the counter.
Unfortunately, she was put to sleep on May 25, 2007, due to Intestinal Lymphoma.
I still blame myself for her illness, due to the food I fed her. (Iams dry cat food, rather than wet/raw food.) She'd had intestinal problems for years, but I "managed" it by giving her the steroids that a Veterinarian in Dallas had prescribed. If I could do it over again, knowing what I know now, I would have her on a completely different diet. I still have a lot of guilt over the matter and haven't been able to even consider another pet.
At the time she passed, we were living in Seattle and the Veterinary Clinic there had done nothing useful nor found anything helpful, in all the visits leading-up to my cat's passing. In fact, they weren't even the ones that discovered the Lymphoma. That was done by an Emergency Veterinary Clinic - the place where she was also put to sleep, and, subsequently, cremated.
Some weeks after she was gone, I got a reminder card in the mail from the "regular" Veterinary Clinic to bring my cat for a checkup. I completely lost my mind, called the Clinic, and told them if I ever received ANY form of communication from them again, they could expect a visit from me and I would clear-out the @#$%* building. Luckily, for all of us, I never heard from them again.
She had been with me through a divorce, a job layoff, selling my house, moving to new cities and states, ongoing bouts of fear and anxiety, a hurricane, etc. I cried daily for two weeks, after she passed. It completely shattered me. Almost 11 years later, my heart still aches. I've still never even
opened the sealed box that contains the urn with her ashes.
No doubt, I could use some psychotherapy.