In 1998, 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. Once I got there, I realized my field was full of women and gay men, and those straight men who were there 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. The gay Freyrsman who was to become 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, and I followed his instructions.
It went something like this:
1. Find a small container with an image of a cat on it.
2. Write down what you are looking for in a romantic partner.
3. Put it in a windowsill–cat side facing outward–and ask Freya to bring it to you.
Pretty simple, right? I used a cute little tin jewelry box with 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 understand when I have absolutely no desire to interact with anyone; will not demand a lot of my time and attention; is smart, independent and can take care of himself; 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 real relationship.)
My goddess 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, I heard my cat Harbarth having a conversation with someone outside of that window which housed the spell. I looked out, and lo and behold! There he was. He had big sleepy eyes, a striped 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 my lap and purr, or snuggle next to me as I studied. I named him Joxer, after my favorite character from Xena, Warrior Princess. (Luckily, 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.)
After a few months, I finally realized that Freya had given me what I had asked for, but since what I had asked for doesn’t come in a human model, I got what model was available–a snuggly, loving, smart, independent cat. He really did make grad school (and living with my Odin-possessed other cat) much happier than it would have been otherwise. He was a great cat, and I was grateful to have him in my life.
Now I know: when asking the Gods for a favor, be specific. At least regarding the species. 🙂 You just might get what you ask for, though possibly not in the form you had intended. I still don’t work 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.
[Note: It turns out that this love spell thing works both ways. Also through that kindred I met a very pretty, and very Heathen, blond man who was dedicated to Sif. He had asked for me (or someone like me) to come into his life, and lo and beholdl! I did. Though the relationship ended up not working out, it was kind of neat to be the person who was asked for, instead of the person who was doing the asking. So, like in the movie Practical Magic, you never know–maybe there is someone out there who is wishing for you, instead.]