A few days after we adopted Cassie, Bridget, our adoption counselor, came by to check on Cassie. She also brought Cassie a stuffed frog. Cassie tossed that frog around a few times. Then she sat down, ripped a hole in it, and started to pull the stuffing out. I was embarrassed that Cassie had torn the new toy right in front of Bridget. I took it away, shoved the stuffing back, and told Bridget I was sorry.

Fast forward a couple of months. We had our first session with Cecelia, a trainer, in our home. Cecelia observed Cassie for a while and I commented on how much Cassie enjoyed her plushie toys. When Cecelia asked me if Cassie ever ripped them open to get the stuffing out I explained about the episode with Bridget’s gift. Then Cecelia surprised me. She said that was good. That Cassie was just following her instincts. As long as she wasn’t eating the stuffing it was fine, good even.

I felt so bad. Here was our brand new dog who felt comfortable enough in her new home to do one of those things that dogs know how to do by instinct, totally gut something with great joy and abandon, and I had put a quick stop to it all.

Bad dog mommy.

I’m a writer. A writer writes. And sometimes a writer doesn’t write. Sometimes she daydreams. Sometimes she reads. And sometimes she ignores everything to do with writing in order to get back in touch with who she is. Which is a writer.

I know all that. Yet sometimes I’ll let someone else’s idea of what I should or shouldn’t be doing stop me from what I know in my gut is the right thing for me. the right thing at that moment in time.

After that first visit with Cecelia I went out and bought Cassie a couple of large stuffed toys. Her favorite is a bright orange gorilla. She played with it for weeks and weeks until one day she found a little hole at the neck. She pulled out a bit of stuffing, just a little bit, and then looked up. Was she waiting to see if was going to put a stop to her following her instincts? Maybe. I just smiled and said, “Good dog.” Pretty soon her play room was covered with pieces of stuffing. And Cassie had what they call a “happy mouth,” partway open, her tongue hanging out just a bit, almost, but not quite a smile.

I had to smile too as I picked up all the stuffing, pushed it back inside the gorilla, and gave it back to her. She doesn’t gut it every day but when she does, she goes at it with great gusto, growling and tossing it back and forth before settling in for a good gutting.

And while Cassie’s doing that I try to follow a few instincts of my own, to listen to my body and what it is telling me it needs right at that moment, trusting that I am doing just what I am meant to do and knowing that it always leads me back to the words.

How many times have you wanted to write something but stopped because someone laughed or scolded or told you that you should be doing something else instead?

Don’t listen to them. Listen to yourself. Follow your instincts.

Good writer.