The LaRue Curse

My grandmother had it.  My mother had it.  My sister has it.  My two uncles have it.  My cousins have it.  I have it.  My brother has it.  The LaRue curse.

It must come through my grandmother, who picked up every stray animal she ever found.  My mother would pick up strays, as did my uncles.  My sister currently houses 4 cats that she rescued from a bag thrown in the shoulder of the road.  I have picked up my share of strays, though haven't kept any.

When my brother's dog was put down, he said to me, "I don't want to go get a dog.  One will find me . . . they always do."  He was fully aware that he has the LaRue curse . . . he just had never named it.

On Monday, Bart and Jerri went to Chaco Canyon.  There were only a few people there, and one particular family had a puppy with them - or at least that is how it appeared.  When they left, however, the puppy was still there.  It followed Bart and Jerri until it was exhausted.  No one was left in the parking lot.  Clearly, the puppy was abandoned.  What to do?  Those with the LaRue curse know what to do.  Take the puppy home.

And so they did.  Isn't it cute?

Whether they will find a home for it or keep it is still being decided.  But those with the LaRue curse at least make sure that God's helpless creatures are taken care of.  Maybe I should instead call it the LaRue blessing.