It was 1998, and I was in grad school. One of the many reasons that I decided to go to grad school was to find (not to put too fine a point on it) a husband who shared the same interests as me. Once I got there, I realized my field was full of women and gay men, and those few who were straight men were taken. So there were just not that many eligible guys around. Having never been one to pick up guys at bars, and internet dating having not really taken off yet, I was kind of stuck as to what to do about it.
Enter my first kindred. My first gothi learned of my plight and offered me a spell that he had created which would ask Freya to help bring love into my life. Having done my own research on Freya back when I first became Wiccan, his suggestion made a lot of sense to me, so I followed his instructions.
It went something like this:
- Find a small container with an image of a cat on it.
- Write down what you are looking for in a romantic partner.
- Put it in a windowsill–cat side facing outward–and ask Freya to bring it to you.
Pretty simple, right? Not a big deal. I used a cute little jewelry box that had an orange cat on it. Here’s the note I put into the tin:
Freya, please bring me a guy who is: kind; cute; likes to snuggle; isn’t clingy; will not demand a lot of my time and attention; and who is available whenever I need him.
(You have to understand, I was in my first year of grad school. I didn’t have a lot of time or energy to put into a actual relationship.)
Over the years, I’ve come to realize that if my Goddess is going to grant a wish, She works quickly. She’s not subtle, and the few times I’ve ever sat down and grudgingly asked her for a specific thing, assuming it was reasonable, She didn’t waste a lot of time. Sure enough, three hours later that same day, I heard my cat Harbarth having a conversation with someone outside of the window. I looked out, and lo and behold! There he was. He had big sleepy eyes, a gray and black coat, a white belly, and very pink paws. He was… a cat.
Annoyed with my goddess, but nevertheless appreciating the irony of the situation, I let him in. He was dirty and didn’t have a collar; there were no “Lost cat!” posters to be found, and none of my neighbors recognized him. After a few days, I decided to keep him for good.
He turned out to be the biggest love bug of a cat–just one of those cats whose only desire in life is to sit on somone’s lap and purr, or snuggle next to me as I studied. I named him Joxer, after my favorite character from Xena, Warrior Princess. (He made a great foil to my other cat, a gray tabby who, taking after his namesake, got an infection in one eye and would escape the apartment any chance he could get.)
Now I know to be specific when asking the Gods for a favor (at least regarding the species, if nothing else). I still don’t work many magic spells, per se, and I have to say I’m even warier of straight-up asking my Gods for anything, because I know how powerful this can be. The Gods are real, and they don’t mess around. You just might get what you ask for (though possibly not in the form you had intended).