A good cat was hard to come by. A good cat was what a gypsy needed to run ahead of her and warn her of danger when on the road. A dog ran in packs and would run off at the sight of a pack in the old country. A good cat stayed close and through the acute feline senses became a protector and comforter to her chosen human.
Maggie knew she needed a good cat. Little did she know how good of a cat she found when she found little Yiva in her nip beds in the back of her house. Maggie would plant catnip in her garden to add a little spice to the lives of the Abbottsford Cats that ruled the neighborhood. She had taught Sam, a gentle rather non-cat man how to trap, neuter and release a feral cat back into the neighborhood when it was found. By doing this, the cats would keep the mice and rats at bay. They would be fed, watered and protected in the winter with the fabulous cat houses Sam could make. Also, they would not overpopulate the area and keep other felines out. Yiva, just appeared, looked about six weeks old, and was extremely independent for a kitten that young.
Maggie didn't really find her. Yiva found Maggie. She sat in those cat nip beds and let out the loudest yowl that the neighborhood had heard in years. The kitten was extremely satisfied with herself when the woman came outside and found her. She let her pick her up and immediately demanded food with a frantic continuous yowling of a lessor volume.
It wasn't long before the gypsy began teaching the apt pupil the ways of a familiar. Yiva was an eager learner. Maggie was no longer alone with her magic; and Yiva, the Spirit Cat, had fulfilled one of the main decrees of the Code. With the Yiva, Maggie's magic was complete.