CREATURE C0MF0RTS

CREATURE COMFORTS

This article appeared in the UK edition of Marie Claire magazine for October 1997.
It is presented here for the convenience of those furs who have not had the opportunity to obtain a copy of the magazine, including some of those who appear in the article itself.
The copyrights of the reporter, Emily Hohler, photographer, Evan Hurd, and those of the publisher are hereby recognised.
This web page is constructed much as the article appeared, except for layout modifications needed to fit available space on a 800x600 browser screen. Spelling mistakes are probably the scanner...

CREATURE COMFORTS

'I married a man who thinks he's a wild cat'

Mark thinks he's a honey badger, Rod wants to be an otter and Laurie the lioness likes lapping up cream and walking on ledges. Welcome to the weird world of the Furries, the Americans who love animals so much, they want to be them.

Emily Hohler reports. Photographs by Evan Hurd

Wild Cat

Rachel Cawley is showing off her wedding pictures in the sitting-room of her California ranch. At least, she says it's her wedding. The bride looks distinctly like a kangaroo, and the groom appears to be a fox. Behind him stands a stately looking Great Dane, on hand to lend a helping paw to the proceedings as the best man. Another three dozen guests in various guises hover in the background - a zebra and a skunk stand out from the crowd - witnesses to the happy union between Rachel and her husband John. 'Wearing a fur suit is a bit like learning how to drive,' says Rachel. 'When you have a tail that's about 4ft long, you have to practise in front of a mirror so you don't bump into people.' Rachel, 26, and John, 43, describe themselves as committed Furries, members of a growing subculture of Americans who love animals so much that they spend as much of their life as possible emulating them. Dressed in her costume as a cataroo (a cross between a kangaroo and a cat), Rachel takes her eight-year-old daughter (known in the area as Yotie the Coyote because of her own costume) to the park and the local supermarket, where children laugh and stare.

'I'd like to be a cat in a black spandex catsuit, if I had a better body shape'
Kim Camacho, 34

Cataroo & TopFox Kishma & Ed

'The euphoria I feel when I dress up and see people's reactions is what I imagine a drug experience to be like'

John Cawley, 43

Once in character, Rachel becomes more gregarious, losing her inhibitions and dancing and fooling around. Sometimes, Rachel and John climb into their fur suits at home to make TV-watching cosier. When John first met Rachel she was dressed as a panther. He couldn't be sure that she was a she, but he was excited by the way she brought the costume alive. It took Rachel a little longer to warm up to Blue Fox. 'Fox costumes are low on sexuality. If he made himself a hot kangaroo costume, that would be different.' But she was attracted by his openness and ready sense of humour. The real John, she later found, was quiet and shy. 'My fox costumes are an extension of my character,' says John. 'Part of me wishes I were a fox. I'm small, short and sly, and I like to think I'm clever. The euphoria I feel when

I dress up and see people's thrilled reactions is what I imagine a drug experience to be like.' John has been interested in foxes since the age of five, and he once made a pilgrimage to Hokkaido, a Japanese island inhabited by thousands of foxes, where he stocked up on fox merchandise at a huge souvenir store. Rachel and John are not alone in their Furry fetish. Packs of Furries with their own Fursonas and Furnames roam across the States. They meet at ConFurences and conventions held exclusively for Furries, where they Filk (sing) and Fur le Dance the night away. Away from ConFurences, they frolic on websites called Furrymucks. What these Furries share is a love of animals both imaginary (like Rachel's cataroo) and real. Weeks of toil and frequently thousands of dollars go into making their costumes.

It was a gay couple from California, Mark Merlino and his partner Rod O'Riley, who first brought the Furries together. In 1986, after about a year of hosting gatherings at comic and science-fiction conventions for people with an interest in anthropomorphism (endowing animals with human personalities), they decided to hold an official Furry Party. Within a few years, the party had become so popular that the first ConFurence was born. Last year, over 1,000 attended, many in costume. One man from North Wales became so obsessed with the Furries that he moved to California to be closer to them. But Furriness is not just about a love of cute little animals. In the same way that 1980s men were urged to get in touch with their feminine side, Mark and Rod self-styled Furry evangelists, now want us all to get

in touch with our animal side. 'I believe there is a little Furry inside all of us,' says Mark, his black-and-white honey badger tail drooping off the seat of his chair. 'The main thing about Furries is that they have this feeling for animals. They respect them. They would like to be one.' Rod has no problem with this logic. 'We think we've stumbled across something with a universal meaning,' he says. 'We think it deserves discussion.' It certainly does. Rod is wearing a badge saying Vinson Mink, which is his Fursona. He and Mark met through their shared love of mustelids, or weasel types. They would both like to be otters, but, as Rod modestly says, 'We don't deserve to be them. A mink is like an otter with a bad attitude. I'm known as a bit of a curmudgeon and a smart mouth.' But Furriness is not just about blaming your

character deficiencies on an animal. Oh no. 'Getting in touch with your furry side is 120 per cent a positive thing. Being a mink has kept me sane, given me a good collection of snappy remarks. I don't stop and think about it: the mink has worked its way into my personality enough for it to become automatic.'
Being a honey badger has helped Mark, too. 'A psychologist would say that finding animals attractive serves no useful purpose. I think it does. Discovering the kinship that all living things have helps us to understand ourselves and the rest of the world.' Mark fell in love with otters while watching nature programmes as a child. He admired their mixture of curiosity and indestructible attitude. 'As small carnivores they have to be fearless to survive,' he says.

'I experimented with licking myself with my tongue until I found that my hair got stuck in my teeth'

Bryon Havranek, 28

He found this particularly useful when setting up business as a telecommunications engineer. 'I suddenly realised I had nothing to fear. I'm unfazed by confrontations with much larger people. I can take care of myself without a gun and without practising a martial art.'
Not every Furry sits down and asks themself interesting philosophical questions like, 'I think, therefore am I an otter?' Many simply enjoy the comics or the art, or dressing up in animal costumes and pretending to be someone or something else. Kishma Danielle, 37, is one such woman: she has several characters but has become known for her belly-dancing zebra character. 'I always wanted to be a vet and although I'm not,
I do work as a volunteer in a zoo,' she says. 'I think it's a wonderful thing to understand about animals, to love and

respect them.' But, says Kishma, some Furries go too far. 'One guy I knew thought he was a wolf and now lives on an Indian reservation pretending to be one. I'm usually a patient person but I have absolutely no time for these people.' Kishma shares a house with four other Furries, including 34-year-old Kim Camacho, a monster, and her husband Ben, 45, a wild cat, 'I have a monster costume for the winter, but in summer it's too hot. I'd like to be a cat in a black spandex catsuit if I had a better body shape,' says Kim, a taxation clerk.
'We think the world would be a more interesting place if there were more than just humans walking and talking, so we make them up out of our imaginations. But some people take it too far. They should get a life.'

Enter Furlup, a 28-year-old animal control officer who looks more like a wolf out of his Furry costume than in it. Since he started joining other Furries on the Internet about five years ago, Furlup, who won't reveal his real name, says his wolf persona has taken over 'He is me. I am wolf,' he intones ominously Dogs and wolves have always interested him but since becoming a Furry he understands why he was drawn to them. 'I was a loner at school and I now realise it was because those kids weren't my kind.' Furlups expert and intuitive handling of aggressive dogs is some compensation for not actually being one - and of course he has his Furry friends. He says that if it weren't for his addiction to the Furrymucks (Internet websites), he would be living alone in a cabin in the middle of a forest.

Rachel and John Cawley don't want to be animals, but they do love them. Rachel was brought up on a farm and now works part time as a veterinary assistant. She helps to pay for the upkeep of her four dogs, three cats and a horse by selling her drawings of 'human' animals.
John has long been a fan of foxes, cartoons and anthropomorphism. His enthusiasm for dressing up is (almost) infectious. 'I goof around, I crack jokes,' he says. 'When you're in a fur suit you can pat someone's bald head and they'll burst out laughing. They'd probably hit you if you weren't in costume.' There is a sadder note to such frivolity. Rachel's choice of animal is obviously connected her childhood, which she describes as 'shaky and very abusive'. She recalls becoming close to the animals on her parents' farm because her elder siblings

- two brothers and a sister either left her out of their games or bullied her. She admired cats for their independence and ability to survive, but as her life became more stable she ended up shifting her affections to kangaroos, which are calm and family orientated, and become aggressive only when cornered.
In a reflective moment, Rachel remarks, 'A large proportion of Furries were outcasts as children. Most had some kind of problem interacting, and this is how they learn how to cope. Animals won't backstab or do anything mean to you. By inventing this make-believe world they feel safe.'

FurDance Laurie & Bryon

Furlup Most Furries relish being thought of as 'weird' and their sense of alienation from other people often runs deep. Mark Merlino's friend, Jasmine, 39, can hardly bring herself to communicate at all. Eventually she says, 'I'm not into Furries as much as I used to be. I'm more geared to real animals than people who dress up and pretend - animals don't give you the grief that humans do.'
Bryon Havranek's attitude is similar. Bryon, 28, attributes his initial awkwardness to his territorial, catlike nature, and hides defensively behind dark glasses when talking to strangers. When Laurie Mau, 29, moved into the house he was sharing with friends, they were initially wary of each other and

didn't become romantically involved for about four months. They have now adopted the Furnames Moe (Laurie) and Witch-Cat (Bryon) and joke about Laurie being 'Furverted' by Bryon. But she insists she already had an affinity with Furrydom.
'The lioness first came to me in a dream when I was about seven,' says Laurie. 'Later on I realised the significance of that dream that she was my totem, that she had lent me her strength. I have always been aware that there is a good deal more to me than being human, and I think that people who can't connect with their animal side are totally cut off from themselves.'
Physically, there isn't much about Laurie that suggests a lioness. She is a soft, pillowy girl, whose curves suggest more of a contented domestic cat.

'I think that people who can't connect with their animal side are totally cut off from themselves'
Laurie Mau, 29

However, she is eager to offer evidence of her leonine qualities. 'The other day Bryon was sick,' she says, 'and as I walked out of the door to go and buy food I heard myself saying, "The mate is down, I have to go and hunt." And when we were watching a TV special about lions' sexuality recently, Bryon kept going, "Yeah, Laurie does that and that... " I do generally initiate sex and I'm pretty aggressive.
'I also like creamy things, I like walking on ledges, I like rubbing the back of my head on things. And even though I tell myself not to, I'm always brushing up against people.' Reining herself in, she adds, 'Obviously my humanity is still here or I would probably be gnawing at-your leg.'

The sensual and sexual element of Furriness is a force Laurie and Bryon celebrate. Laurie's outfit features studded wrist guards, which draw attention to her sharpened nails, and lots of figure-hugging black Lycra. 'There's a very strong sexual vibe with the Furries,' Laurie enthuses. 'Imagine yourself in the body of a Siamese cat with her luminous eyes, soft fur and great agility. You can imagine it or you can step into that reality. You could buy stretch fur, turn it into any animal you want and have sex in it. If you had a chance to look into people's bedrooms, I think you'd find a lot of interesting anthropomorphic stuff going on that people aren't willing to talk about.' Bryon isn't quite so talkative, although he admits he appreciates Laurie's sharpened nails.

Now a student in San Diego, he seems to have spent most of his life searching for the warmth and security of his recently acquired 'fur family'. He remembers being shunted all over the country as a child and seeking refuge in his own imaginary worlds. He traces his interest in anthropomorphism to a film he saw in his early teens - his parents were alarmed when he developed a crush on the leading female rodent.
Bryon became interested in cats when he lived in Texas, and stray cats used to wander up to the door. 'Much later on I became interested in mysticism and started thinking about all these old gods - Native American, Egyptian, Greek - and the fact that they often had animal personas,' says Bryon.

'It occurred to me that the spirit of a cat doesn't necessarily have to abide in a cat's body.' Bryon decided to tackle his affinity with cats in the same way that method actors approach acting roles: he did his utmost to become a cat. 'It's not just about the cat's spirit - its self-sufficiency combined with its love of affection - I also developed a taste for catnip and milk and started eating a lot of fish. I experimented with licking myself with my tongue until I found that my hair got stuck in my teeth. I studied the cats playing in the backyard until one day I decided to join them. I went down on all fours and ran through the bushes with them playing tag. The cats just treated me like one of their own.'

Bryon's brother labels him eccentric, but his parents have come to accept his behaviour. 'I've had a lot of abuse over the years,' Bryon says. 'Friends laugh and say, "I'll believe you're a cat when I see the tail." Well, now I do have the tail,' he says, stroking it triumphantly, 'and when I feel like fluffing up my fur, I'll wear it out on the street.' Part of the reason he does it, he readily admits, is to get attention: the costume makes him feel special.
Britain, famed as a nation of animal lovers, would appear to be ripe for Furrie infiltration. Some US Furries have made pilgrimages to obscure British wildlife sites, and there are even a couple of dozen padding around South London, allegedly staging an undersubscribed event called UKFurcon. If anyone needs proof that stroking soft toys is for adults too, it's out there - somewhere.

Silvermane

'The euphoria I feel when I dress up and see people's reactions is what I imagine a drug experience to be like' John Cawley, 43	Once in character, Rachel becomes more gregarious, losing her inhibitions and dancing and fooling around. Sometimes, Rachel and John climb into their fur suits at home to make TV-watching cosier. When John first met Rachel she was dressed as a panther. He couldn't be sure that she was a she, but he was excited by the way she brought the costume alive. It took Rachel a little longer to warm up to Blue Fox. 'Fox costumes are low on sexuality. If he made himself a hot kangaroo costume, that would be different.' But she was attracted by his openness and ready sense of humour. The real John, she later found, was quiet and shy. 'My fox costumes are an extension of my character,' says John. 'Part of me wishes I were a fox. I'm small, short and sly, and I like to think I'm clever. The euphoria I feel when	I dress up and see people's thrilled reactions is what I imagine a drug experience to be like.' John has been interested in foxes since the age of five, and he once made a pilgrimage to Hokkaido, a Japanese island inhabited by thousands of foxes, where he stocked up on fox merchandise at a huge souvenir store. Rachel and John are not alone in their Furry fetish. Packs of Furries with their own Fursonas and Furnames roam across the States. They meet at ConFurences and conventions held exclusively for Furries, where they Filk (sing) and Fur le Dance the night away. Away from ConFurences, they frolic on websites called Furrymucks. What these Furries share is a love of animals both imaginary (like Rachel's cataroo) and real. Weeks of toil and frequently thousands of dollars go into making their costumes.
It was a gay couple from California, Mark Merlino and his partner Rod O'Riley, who first brought the Furries together. In 1986, after about a year of hosting gatherings at comic and science-fiction conventions for people with an interest in anthropomorphism (endowing animals with human personalities), they decided to hold an official Furry Party. Within a few years, the party had become so popular that the first ConFurence was born. Last year, over 1,000 attended, many in costume. One man from North Wales became so obsessed with the Furries that he moved to California to be closer to them. But Furriness is not just about a love of cute little animals. In the same way that 1980s men were urged to get in touch with their feminine side, Mark and Rod self-styled Furry evangelists, now want us all to get	in touch with our animal side. 'I believe there is a little Furry inside all of us,' says Mark, his black-and-white honey badger tail drooping off the seat of his chair. 'The main thing about Furries is that they have this feeling for animals. They respect them. They would like to be one.' Rod has no problem with this logic. 'We think we've stumbled across something with a universal meaning,' he says. 'We think it deserves discussion.' It certainly does. Rod is wearing a badge saying Vinson Mink, which is his Fursona. He and Mark met through their shared love of mustelids, or weasel types. They would both like to be otters, but, as Rod modestly says, 'We don't deserve to be them. A mink is like an otter with a bad attitude. I'm known as a bit of a curmudgeon and a smart mouth.' But Furriness is not just about blaming your	character deficiencies on an animal. Oh no. 'Getting in touch with your furry side is 120 per cent a positive thing. Being a mink has kept me sane, given me a good collection of snappy remarks. I don't stop and think about it: the mink has worked its way into my personality enough for it to become automatic.' Being a honey badger has helped Mark, too. 'A psychologist would say that finding animals attractive serves no useful purpose. I think it does. Discovering the kinship that all living things have helps us to understand ourselves and the rest of the world.' Mark fell in love with otters while watching nature programmes as a child. He admired their mixture of curiosity and indestructible attitude. 'As small carnivores they have to be fearless to survive,' he says.
'I experimented with licking myself with my tongue until I found that my hair got stuck in my teeth' Bryon Havranek, 28	He found this particularly useful when setting up business as a telecommunications engineer. 'I suddenly realised I had nothing to fear. I'm unfazed by confrontations with much larger people. I can take care of myself without a gun and without practising a martial art.' Not every Furry sits down and asks themself interesting philosophical questions like, 'I think, therefore am I an otter?' Many simply enjoy the comics or the art, or dressing up in animal costumes and pretending to be someone or something else. Kishma Danielle, 37, is one such woman: she has several characters but has become known for her belly-dancing zebra character. 'I always wanted to be a vet and although I'm not, I do work as a volunteer in a zoo,' she says. 'I think it's a wonderful thing to understand about animals, to love and	respect them.' But, says Kishma, some Furries go too far. 'One guy I knew thought he was a wolf and now lives on an Indian reservation pretending to be one. I'm usually a patient person but I have absolutely no time for these people.' Kishma shares a house with four other Furries, including 34-year-old Kim Camacho, a monster, and her husband Ben, 45, a wild cat, 'I have a monster costume for the winter, but in summer it's too hot. I'd like to be a cat in a black spandex catsuit if I had a better body shape,' says Kim, a taxation clerk. 'We think the world would be a more interesting place if there were more than just humans walking and talking, so we make them up out of our imaginations. But some people take it too far. They should get a life.'
Enter Furlup, a 28-year-old animal control officer who looks more like a wolf out of his Furry costume than in it. Since he started joining other Furries on the Internet about five years ago, Furlup, who won't reveal his real name, says his wolf persona has taken over 'He is me. I am wolf,' he intones ominously Dogs and wolves have always interested him but since becoming a Furry he understands why he was drawn to them. 'I was a loner at school and I now realise it was because those kids weren't my kind.' Furlups expert and intuitive handling of aggressive dogs is some compensation for not actually being one - and of course he has his Furry friends. He says that if it weren't for his addiction to the Furrymucks (Internet websites), he would be living alone in a cabin in the middle of a forest.	Rachel and John Cawley don't want to be animals, but they do love them. Rachel was brought up on a farm and now works part time as a veterinary assistant. She helps to pay for the upkeep of her four dogs, three cats and a horse by selling her drawings of 'human' animals. John has long been a fan of foxes, cartoons and anthropomorphism. His enthusiasm for dressing up is (almost) infectious. 'I goof around, I crack jokes,' he says. 'When you're in a fur suit you can pat someone's bald head and they'll burst out laughing. They'd probably hit you if you weren't in costume.' There is a sadder note to such frivolity. Rachel's choice of animal is obviously connected her childhood, which she describes as 'shaky and very abusive'. She recalls becoming close to the animals on her parents' farm because her elder siblings	- two brothers and a sister either left her out of their games or bullied her. She admired cats for their independence and ability to survive, but as her life became more stable she ended up shifting her affections to kangaroos, which are calm and family orientated, and become aggressive only when cornered. In a reflective moment, Rachel remarks, 'A large proportion of Furries were outcasts as children. Most had some kind of problem interacting, and this is how they learn how to cope. Animals won't backstab or do anything mean to you. By inventing this make-believe world they feel safe.'

		Most Furries relish being thought of as 'weird' and their sense of alienation from other people often runs deep. Mark Merlino's friend, Jasmine, 39, can hardly bring herself to communicate at all. Eventually she says, 'I'm not into Furries as much as I used to be. I'm more geared to real animals than people who dress up and pretend - animals don't give you the grief that humans do.' Bryon Havranek's attitude is similar. Bryon, 28, attributes his initial awkwardness to his territorial, catlike nature, and hides defensively behind dark glasses when talking to strangers. When Laurie Mau, 29, moved into the house he was sharing with friends, they were initially wary of each other and
didn't become romantically involved for about four months. They have now adopted the Furnames Moe (Laurie) and Witch-Cat (Bryon) and joke about Laurie being 'Furverted' by Bryon. But she insists she already had an affinity with Furrydom. 'The lioness first came to me in a dream when I was about seven,' says Laurie. 'Later on I realised the significance of that dream that she was my totem, that she had lent me her strength. I have always been aware that there is a good deal more to me than being human, and I think that people who can't connect with their animal side are totally cut off from themselves.' Physically, there isn't much about Laurie that suggests a lioness. She is a soft, pillowy girl, whose curves suggest more of a contented domestic cat.	'I think that people who can't connect with their animal side are totally cut off from themselves' Laurie Mau, 29	However, she is eager to offer evidence of her leonine qualities. 'The other day Bryon was sick,' she says, 'and as I walked out of the door to go and buy food I heard myself saying, "The mate is down, I have to go and hunt." And when we were watching a TV special about lions' sexuality recently, Bryon kept going, "Yeah, Laurie does that and that... " I do generally initiate sex and I'm pretty aggressive. 'I also like creamy things, I like walking on ledges, I like rubbing the back of my head on things. And even though I tell myself not to, I'm always brushing up against people.' Reining herself in, she adds, 'Obviously my humanity is still here or I would probably be gnawing at-your leg.'
The sensual and sexual element of Furriness is a force Laurie and Bryon celebrate. Laurie's outfit features studded wrist guards, which draw attention to her sharpened nails, and lots of figure-hugging black Lycra. 'There's a very strong sexual vibe with the Furries,' Laurie enthuses. 'Imagine yourself in the body of a Siamese cat with her luminous eyes, soft fur and great agility. You can imagine it or you can step into that reality. You could buy stretch fur, turn it into any animal you want and have sex in it. If you had a chance to look into people's bedrooms, I think you'd find a lot of interesting anthropomorphic stuff going on that people aren't willing to talk about.' Bryon isn't quite so talkative, although he admits he appreciates Laurie's sharpened nails.	Now a student in San Diego, he seems to have spent most of his life searching for the warmth and security of his recently acquired 'fur family'. He remembers being shunted all over the country as a child and seeking refuge in his own imaginary worlds. He traces his interest in anthropomorphism to a film he saw in his early teens - his parents were alarmed when he developed a crush on the leading female rodent. Bryon became interested in cats when he lived in Texas, and stray cats used to wander up to the door. 'Much later on I became interested in mysticism and started thinking about all these old gods - Native American, Egyptian, Greek - and the fact that they often had animal personas,' says Bryon.	'It occurred to me that the spirit of a cat doesn't necessarily have to abide in a cat's body.' Bryon decided to tackle his affinity with cats in the same way that method actors approach acting roles: he did his utmost to become a cat. 'It's not just about the cat's spirit - its self-sufficiency combined with its love of affection - I also developed a taste for catnip and milk and started eating a lot of fish. I experimented with licking myself with my tongue until I found that my hair got stuck in my teeth. I studied the cats playing in the backyard until one day I decided to join them. I went down on all fours and ran through the bushes with them playing tag. The cats just treated me like one of their own.'
Bryon's brother labels him eccentric, but his parents have come to accept his behaviour. 'I've had a lot of abuse over the years,' Bryon says. 'Friends laugh and say, "I'll believe you're a cat when I see the tail." Well, now I do have the tail,' he says, stroking it triumphantly, 'and when I feel like fluffing up my fur, I'll wear it out on the street.' Part of the reason he does it, he readily admits, is to get attention: the costume makes him feel special.	Britain, famed as a nation of animal lovers, would appear to be ripe for Furrie infiltration. Some US Furries have made pilgrimages to obscure British wildlife sites, and there are even a couple of dozen padding around South London, allegedly staging an undersubscribed event called UKFurcon. If anyone needs proof that stroking soft toys is for adults too, it's out there - somewhere.